“So, uh… how long I gotta wait here?”

     A crackled sigh came over the shadowed figure’s comlink. *We’ve already been over this.*

     “Yeah.”

     *You asked this exact same question TWO MINUTES AGO.*

     “Yeah.”

     Another sigh. *Two hours and thirty-seven minutes.*

     The figure let out an exaggerated groan. “That’s, like, FOREVER! My butt’s getting numb. And with my pretty face, it’s not like I can de-mask and go down the local theater to catch a flick while I wait. Hey, what have you heard about Revenge of the Nerds, is it any good?”

     *You are being paid VERY well. You screw this up, and you get NOTHING. Do you understand me!?*

     “Well, when I signed on for this mission, I wasn’t under the impression I’d be perched on a tree limb for three hours straight. Oh oh oooooh, the numbness, it’s spreading… can’t feel my thighs now….”

     *You were hired for this mission because your unique….brain patterns….make you almost invisible to any psychic’s brain scans… specifically Xavier’s.”

     “It’s okay, you can say it. I’M CRAZY!”

     *Pipe down, blast you! I swear, I don’t understand why my superior hired you…*

     “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say crazy awesome.”

     *Whatever. Just stay in your position until the time is right. You and your partner have been doing very well keeping track of the X-Men for the past several weeks, determining their daily and weekly schedules. It’s all been in preparation for this moment, and if you screw this up NOW, I WILL have her shoot you in the head.*

     “Since when is she ‘my partner’? You make it sound like we’re an item or something. Although, you know…”

     *Be. Silent.*

     “Fine. Sourpuss,” the figure replied sarcastically before falling silent.

     After a few moments, the figure opened up his comlink channel again. “So, uh… how long I gotta wait here?”

     “I don’t understand the purpose of this. I know all I need to know.”

     “Don’t take this the wrong way, X-23, but that’s simply not true,” Xavier replied. “You’ve seen a fairly comprehensive view of the world, yes, but from only one point of view—an assassin’s. Now that you’ve renounced your captors and joined the X-Men, I think it’s not only healthy for us, but for you as well to have as normal of a life as possible. And that includes attending school and establishing a real identity for yourself.”

     “Besides, it’s not like we can really teach you much in the way of combat training,” Storm said, smirking. “You’ve already shown us you’ve gotten us all beat in that respect.”

     X-23 returned to the papers she was signing, clearly uncomfortable filling out legal document after legal document. Sitting at a desk, writing in Professor Xavier’s office—with Storm and Beast there as well to help her with any paperwork questions she may have had—she was definitely out of her element.

     “Alright, Social Security Number, ‘Birth’ Certificate, Citizenship Application, Bayville High Application….” Beast noted to himself as he thumbed through document after document. “It looks like you’ve either filled out all the relevant information or just made it up with our backing. All you need to do is choose a name so we can finish up the few remaining blanks on these forms.”

     “Why can’t my name just be X-23?” X-23 grunted as she started to sign the current form she was working on, hesitated, and then merely dated it. “It’s not like I’m going to pass for normal in school anyways.”

     “That’s besides the point,” Storm replied. “X-23 is immediately going to raise eyebrows, it’s not a…. person’s name.”

     “It’s MY name.”

     “Well, yes…” Storm said, her gaze lowering to the floor. “But… that was only because of the impersonal facility in which you were created. You need a name not merely to pass as a ‘normal’ person, but something that just feels more human, X-23.”

     “Besides, X-23 is quite a mouthful to say every time we want to get your attention,” Beast replied, trying to interject a little humor into the suddenly awkward conversation.

     “But X-23 means something,” X-23 replied, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. “I was the twenty-third attempt in a project using the X-gene. It makes sense. How does ‘Ororo’ or ‘Hank’ make sense?”

     “Well, names usually do have some sort of meaning, though not necessarily in English,” Beast explained. “Still, you’re right in that they aren’t really descriptive of the person themselves. It’s… rather difficult to explain, X-23. I hope you’ll understand it in time. However, all that aside, you still do legally need to pick a name.”

     X-23 glanced at all three of the instructors’ expectant gazes before sighing.

     “…I was given many false names to use when I was sent on missions by H.Y.D.R.A., X-23 explained. “To be honest, I forgot all of them as soon as it was acceptable for me to do so. But one name I used, months back in a restaurant where I had lunch with… with Wolverine… I just liked it, for some reason. I don’t have any idea why, it just…. fit.”

     “Well, then,” Beast said, smiling. “Maybe you do understand what I’m saying, after all. What’s the name?”

     “….Laura Kinney.”

     “If you don’t mind my asking, where did you get that name from?” Xavier asked.

     “The phonebook,” X-23 replied. “In case someone needed my contact information, I could provide something that was actual valid information so that computers wouldn’t red-flag it until it was too late.”

     “So, Laura Kinney is the name you want to pick, then?” Storm asked. “Make sure it’s what you want, since after we turn these forms in, you’ll be called by that name considerably more often than your ‘X-23’ codename.”

     X-23 sat there for a while, her gaze unfocused, before she finally nodded an affirmative.

     “Alright then,” Beast said, motioning towards the form in front of X-23. “Let’s make it official.”

     X-23 input her name at the top of the form, then started to sign it at the bottom before Xavier’s hand quickly reached out and stopped her before she could continue to sign.

     “X-23, it’s traditional for legal documents like this to be signed in cursive,” Xavier said. “It makes it more difficult for signatures to be forged.”

     “What is ‘cursive’?” X-23 asked.

     “Now this is why you need to go to school,” Beast smiled as he took X-23’s smaller hand in his and gently guided her hand up, down, and across the page to spell out her new name in cursive. “You’re part of the real world now, X-23—er, I mean, Laura. It’s important for you to learn more about how it works.”

     “I still can use X-23 as my codename, though?”

     “Well, if that’s what you want,” Xavier said. “Like Beast mentioned, however, it is a bit of a mouthful, and again, it is rather impersonal. Are you sure you don’t want to change it?”

     “Not right now,” X-23 stated, pushing the finished paperwork away as she signed the last form. “I’ve already got enough information to memorize for my first day of high school tomorrow. I’d like my old name to still be used in some way, at least, until I get… used… to everything else.”

     Drowning.

     Knives.

     Blood.

     Pain.

     PAIN.

    “Interesting. Her reaction is quite similar to Wolverine’s, despite the gender difference.”

     PAIN

     “How is that interesting? It’s to be expected, right? I mean, that’s what we made her for.”

     LIMBS

     FULL

     “Well, yes, Kimura, she is a clone of Wolverine, but we’re only adding adamantium to her claws. The rest of her skeleton obviously has yet to reach full maturity.”

     PAIN

     THRASHING

     “Whoa! Keep her steady, tighten down the clamps more! Steady, or the adamantium won’t set right!”

     FORCE

     PAIN

     MOVE

     CAN’T

     “I’m not liking this. She should have more tolerance than this by now. If she’s reacting this negatively to an operation this small, we’ll have to drug her up even more for the full operation when she turns eighteen.”

     HEAVY

     HOT

     PAIN

     “I’ve hardly been soft on her, Doctor. You’ve seen the sessions.”

     “I realize that, Kimura. But apparently X-23 is going to need even more combat exercises—with tougher enemies capable of inflicting considerably more pain.”

     HATE

     HEAVIER

     PAIN

     “Heh. You see that, Doc?”

     “What?”

     “Her eyebrows narrowed, her expression changed. I think she can hear us, at least subconsciously, even drugged up as she is.”

     KNIVES

     PAIN

     “You feeling angry, huh, X-23? Huh? You think you hate my guts now? You ain’t seen nothing yet, kid.”

     HATE

     PAIN

     KIMURA

     “Quit trying to interfere with the process. We’re nearly finished, and I don’t want her to start thrashing again. You’ll have plenty of time together later.”

     “Fine, fine.”

     Cooling.

     Pain.

     “This… process… quite fascinating, isn’t it? Oh, I love watching how Mutants react to this.”

     “Eh, if you say so, Doc. I’m more interested in the results.”

     “Oh, I just find the individuality of Mutants fascinating. Before this project, we had you, whose X-Gene mutated when touched to our reactionary compound by taking the traditional healing factor and upping it to a scale never seen, to a point where nothing, not even adamantium, can penetrate your skin. And then, of course, there were the six other individuals I did all those decades ago. Oh, I did SUCH good work in those days…more precise, more analytical… now these blasted hands tremble too much for me to actually work on the operation itself, alas.”

     Cool.

     Pain.

     Dull.

     “Alright everyone, the process has been complete. Drain the tube and bandage her hands and feet—the healing factor is kicking in, but her hands and feet are still a mess. Then we’ll let the drugs wear off meet back her in half an hour.”

     Gurgling.

     Dry.

     Drier.

     Wrap heavy.

     Hands.

     Feet.

     Claws.

     X-23 bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily and dripping sweat. Realizing where she was, she quickly calmed down again, her heart rate rapidly dropping back to normal as she pulled back the covers.

     Just the dream again… just the dream.

     X-23 quickly reprimanded herself as she stood up and turned on the light. She’d run into this situation before, at least a dozen times since moving into the X-Mansion. It wasn’t a dream, it was reality. Past reality, but still reality.

     And yet she couldn’t get over it, she told herself as she pulled out her uniform from her dresser. Pathetic. Weakness. She hated Kimura, but her trainer had been right about one thing—she had let weakness show through far too often.

     If she had learned one thing from life, it was that such emotion could lead one to make mistakes. Fatal mistakes.

     There must be no hesitation. No holding back when that time came, as it inevitably would. As it inevitably had countless times in the past. Her “new life” tomorrow would change none of that.

     X-23 finished suiting up and opened the door to her room, exiting down the dark hallway and towards the elevator. It was time she reminded herself—again—why she could not succumb to such weakness. Even subconsciously.

     “Neena, you got all the right power lines disrupted?”

     *Codenames. Use codenames, Deadpool.*

     “Oooh, you’re way too professional about this. Fine. Domino, you got all the right power lines disrupted?”

     *Yup. One disruptor bullet through each of the three lines powering the mansion’s security systems. No misses. Shouldn’t register so much as a blip, and with everyone asleep, no one should notice until it’s too late.*

     *Good so far. Keep it up, Domino,* came another, male, voice through Deadpool’s comlink. *Deadpool, it’s your turn. Get in there and don’t screw it up.*

     “Awww, now you’re hurting my feewings, Gauntlet. I’m not going to keep you on my AIM buddies list anymore.”

     *Whatever. Just do your job. Remember, three psychics. Radio silence as of now until objective A is taken care of.*

     Only the faintest “scree” sound was heard as a masked figure used a glass cutter on one of the Mansion’s kitchen windows. Carefully laying the circle of glass aside out on the lawn, Deadpool squeezed himself through the hole in the window and into the nearly pitch-black kitchen.

     “Darnit, I smell old pizza,” Deadpool whispered to himself as he crept down the counter and onto the linoleum floor. “I shouldn’t have skipped dinner…. Oh, wait, I didn’t. What the heck, I’m hungry anyways.”

     Deadpool ever-so-carefully lifted up the cover of the leftover pizza box on the kitchen table and speared a slice of the cold snack onto his sword. Bringing up the sword so that the pizza slice slowly slid down to the hilt, Deadpool lifted up the bottom of his mask and nibbled a bit at the slice before putting down his mask again.

     “Oh, stuffed crust! That’ll do for now, I guess. Ooo! Maybe I’ll allow myself one more bite for each X-Man knocked out. Yeah, that’ll work. Delayed gratification is awesome!”

     Deadpool stood still for a minute, making sure he heard no noises outside of the air conditioning—there weren’t—and then he crept along, out of the kitchen and up the nearby stairs to the second floor.

     “Lessee here,” he mumbled to himself, pulling out a small electronic viewscreen and turning it on. “According to the schematic, Jean Grey’s room should be… three doors down, on the right…”

     “Dun dun,” Deadpool whispered as he took the first two steps down the corridor, saying each “dun” exactly as he finished each step, before continuing at a pace in keeping with his “music”.

     “Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun….”

     By this point Deadpool had reached Jean’s door. Quietly turning the doorknob and opening it, he dropped to the floor and did a few entirely unnecessary rolls to the side of Jean’s bed, all the while whispering “Dun DUN DUN dun DUN!”

     The sound of Deadpool’s rolling and whispered musical number woke up Jean, who sat up, startled—only to have Deadpool slap a small circular electronic device on her forehead, which zapped her for a few moments and she noiselessly fell back onto her pillow again, unconscious.

     “Fan-tastic,” Deadpool whispered, standing up and dusting off his hands. “I’d like to see someone else accomplish something like this with their own theme music playing. One psychic down, two to go.”

     Silently tip-toeing out of Jean Grey’s room, Deadpool lifted his mask and took another bite of the pizza slice still on his sword before continuing with his work.

     Domino was situated on top of a four-story building, nearly a mile away from the Xavier Institute. She was currently lying down near the edge of the roof, a sniper gun in front of her pointed straight at the Institute. From this position most of the Institute was covered by interfering trees, but a small section wasn’t.

     And that small section was all she was concerned about.

     She was peering through the sniper scope, but not through her own eyes. She had some rather hefty headgear on which covered her eyes, enabling her to not only see in the dark, but through a series of lenses that allowed her to greatly magnify her target.

     This isn’t looking good…

     “Domino.”

     She nearly fired the rifle out of surprise, gasping during the split-second before she recognized the voice and angrily tore off the headset.

     “Geez, Gauntlet, don’t do that!” Domino berated, quickly standing up and stretching. With the headset off, Domino’s rather unique feature made itself clear—though the rest of her skin was normal (albeit rather pale), a large circular bluish-black spot encircled her left eye. It was only a slightly paler shade than her pitch-black, short-cropped hair. “I almost pulled the trigger!”

     “I told you, radio silence until Deadpool knocks out the three psychics,” Gauntlet reminded her. “I couldn’t contact you any other way.”

     In addition to the robotic eye implant Gauntlet had been given when he and Omega Red had encountered Wolverine and X-23 in the forest all those months ago, Gauntlet now had so many additional robotic additions he would have stood out even to an extremely casual observer. Almost his entire left side was now robotic, having been almost incinerated by X-23’s sabotage, including both his left arm and leg. It was hardly a hurriedly-constructed, ramshackle half of a body, however—it was very streamlined, well-armored, and high-tech, to the point where Gauntlet’s robotic limbs made almost no sound as they moved.

     “Anyway, what did you want?” Domino asked.

     “The Mutant signature scanner I have shows two of them are in a coma,” Gauntlet replied. “Deadpool’s work is almost done.”

     “Okay, and?”

     “We still need one other threat taken care of before we can all enter the premises safely, Domino. You know this. Has X-23 been neutralized?”

     “I was just looking around for her when you startled me.”

     “Well, then hurry up and--- wait. What do you mean, ‘looking around’? I gave you the schematic, you should know where her room is. You should have a clear shot from here through the window to her bed, we’ve been planning this for months!”

     “Yeah, I’ve been cross-referencing my position with the Xavier Institute’s schematic,” Domino said, scratching her head. “I’m… not seeing her. If I’m looking at this correctly, her room’s empty.”

     “Give me that,” Gauntlet said angrily, snatching the paper schematic from Domino’s hands. Eyeing it carefully, he then knelt down and looked through the sniper scope to see where it was aimed, his ocular implant allowing him to have the same visual abilites as Domino had with her headset on. Cursing under his breath, he got up again.

     “You’re right,” he growled. “For some reason, she’s not sleeping like the rest of the X-Men are. She’s somewhere else in the Mansion, as my Mutant signature scanner is still reading the expected number of Mutants in that Institute. This could jeopardize our mission, but… I can’t risk breaking radio silence right now. Hrrm….”

     “Why did you want me to get a headshot in on the little brat anyway?” Domino asked. “I thought you wanted her alive.”

     “A bullet to her skull won’t kill her,” Gauntlet replied. “It’ll just neutralize her for a short while before her healing factor kicks in. Worse case scenario, it takes out some of her memories, which would only be good for us.”

     “But I thought she wasn’t the target.”

     “She’s not, the plan is still unchanged. And quit asking so many questions-- you and Deadpool are mercenaries, you’re not part of H.Y.D.R.A. anymore. You do your job, you get your pay, and you move on. Understood?”

     “Whatever,” Domino said, rolling her eyes. “So, what do you want me to do, then?”

     “Be quiet, for the moment,” Gauntlet said, his concentration on a small electronic device he was holding in his non-robotic hand. “I’m doing a more in-depth scan, trying to find out where she--- ah, that’s it. Good, this won’t jeopardize the mission.”

     “Where is she?” Domino asked, packing up her sniper rifle and slinging it over her back.

     “Our equipment can’t tell one Mutant signature from the other, but besides Deadpool, all of the Mutant signatures present at the Institute are in their expected places, mostly—except for one signature, which is down in the sub-basement. She’s in the Danger Room.”

     “Aaaand how will that not jeopardize the mission? Our target is in the sub-basement as well.”

     “Yes, but remember that their ‘Danger Room’ is a combat simulator. She’ll be too busy slashing up mindless turrets and automatons to notice a stray, unfamiliar smell on the other end of the same floor.”

     “But what if she finishes before we’re finished?”

     “Good point,” Gauntlet said. “Which is why we may need Kimura to make a bit of a detour first. Change of plans, Domino—follow me.”

     Pivot.

     Thrust.

     Impale.

     Backstep.

     Slice.

     Somersault.

     Good, X-23 kept thinking. This is an exercise. Nothing more.

     Thrusting her hand claws into a surprised Shadowcat’s face, she whirled the X-Man around and let her fly at Wolfsbane, knocking them both over.

     Cyclops fired an optic blast, which she nimbly dodged. She quickly then yanked Iceman’s body back behind her and into the beam, slicing Bobby’s body neatly in half. The two halves hit the other end of the danger room, exposed circuitry sparking.

     They are people, X-23 reminded herself as she felt herself being picked up by a force—it was actually magnetic, but it was meant to approximate a telekinetic movement—as Jean Grey walked towards her, a sneer on her face.

     People are fallible.

     Gauntlet ran up beside Jean and leveled his blaster at X-23, firing a few blasts at her and knocking her back against the Danger Room. X-23 grunted as her wounds rapidly began to close and then stood up.

     People are temporary. Especially in comparison to you.

     X-23 let out a cry of fury and pressed a button on her belt, which ejected two throwing stars. Taking one in each hand, in one smooth motion she let each fly, each one slicing right through the center of Gauntlet’s and Jean’s skulls. Both immediately dropped to the ground, shuddering and sparking.

     But most importantly, people are weak, both physically and emotionally.

     Beast tackled her to the ground, growling. X-23 struggled against him, but she knew it was no use. Beast—or his mechanical equivalent-- was simply far too strong for her.

     Before X-23 could attempt to pivot her limbs towards Beast, he took her by an elbow and let her fly towards the center of the Danger Room, where she was hit in mid-throw right in the midsection by Cannonball. The sheer force of the impact slammed them both into the side of the Danger Room wall, creating a small crater. The dead X-Man shook it off, but X-23 was extremely bloodied by the impact, her face smashed as well as her rib cage, pelvis, and one of her arms.

     People can….can turn on you….. People can betray you, even…. people you thought you knew.

     With tremendous effort, X-23 stuck both of her foot-claws into Cannonball and sliced them upwards into his face. The automaton staggered back in surprise before falling to the floor.

     As she saw several other X-Men, Brotherhood members, and Acolytes slowly walk towards her, X-23 felt her rib cage muscle, sinew, and bones start to heal and knit themselves back together, along with her other injuries. As expected, she was healing…. But not quite fast enough.

     People can be allies just as easily as they can become enemies. If the time should come, you must be ready. No hesitation. No emotion. Or it could cost you your life.

     Blob picked her up with one hand, the rough motion making her cry out in pain beside herself.

     He threw her towards an X-Man, who caught her in one of his hands, roughly bringing her face level with his.

     “Well, look what we got here,” Wolverine said, his grin bordering on feral. “Girlie, you’re messing with the wrong Mutants.”

     I must be ready.

     Her arm now healed enough, X-23 swept her claws down Wolverine’s arms, slicing them off neatly at the shoulders. He howled in pain, but his howl was interrupted as X-23 brought her knee up to Wolverine’s chin, knocking the person she had been cloned from back to the floor.

     No emotion.

     X-23 picked up Wolverine’s limp, but still active, body and looked the automaton copy right in his eyes, bringing up the claws in her other arm until they were mere inches from Logan’s face.

     No hesitation.

     X-23 brought her claws ever-so-slightly closer to Logan’s face, her arm trembling as she did so.

     No. Hesitation. Do it. Now.

     X-23 fought the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

     DO IT! NOW!

     A hand, seemingly hard as rock, yanked her away from the Wolverine duplicate, who collapsed to the floor, twitching.

     X-23 turned around to see a Kimura duplicate, staring her in the face.

     You hesitated. You failed your mission. And now the one person you can’t beat in actual combat has you by the arms.

     *sniff, sniff*

     Wait a minute. That’s no dupli—

     “Hey there, X,” Kimura smiled as she locked her arms around X-23’s, then quickly bringing them back with a rough motion, dislocated them on the spot. X-23 let out a gasp of pain, though it was stifled as Kimura kicked her in the stomach and pinned her up against the wall. Between Kimura’s stomach and her lower right arm, X-23 could just barely see the Kimura duplicate in a corner of the danger room, disemboweled and sparking, while the other remaining automatons slowly advanced on her position, as they were programmed to do.

     Pathetic, weak, inexcusable… I was so focused on the battle I didn’t even notice the real Kimura entering the Danger Room, or the scent before she grabbed me…

     “Stop simul—“ X-23 started to yell, but was interrupted as Kimura clamped a hand around X-23’s mouth.

     “Oh, no no no, none of that, sweetie!” Kimura said in a tone that one would usually reserve for four-year-olds, a devious smirk appearing on her face. “No, you’ve got to finish your workout session, after all. Otherwise I’ll have to give you an F!”

     Keeping X-23’s legs and arms locked in a fixed position with her own limbs, Kimura turned them both around until they were facing the Danger Room duplicates advancing on the girl.

     “Wow, X-Men, Acolytes, Brotherhood members, even me and Gauntlet! You sure aim for the stars!” Kimura said, laughing. “But see sweetie, you’ve already proven you can handle this stuff easy peasy, right? So how about we up the stakes for extra credit. Let’s see if you can still take them all out with me holding your limbs in place! This’ll be super fun, right?”

     “THERE you guys are!” Deadpool said, who was waiting by the hole in the Mansion’s kitchen window as Domino and Gauntlet climbed in. He was promptly followed by an angry shush from both of the H.Y.D.R.A. agents.

     “Oh, you guys worry too much,” Deadpool said, waving away their concern. “The three psychic targets you wanted—Jean, Xavier, and Moonstar—all have those little blinky-stunny things on their foreheads. Oh, and I put one on… um…. Darkkit… no, Shadowcat, yeah. ‘Cause she shares the same room as that Moonstar gal. Everyone else is sound asleep.”

     “Good job, Deadpool… for once,” Gauntlet said, sneering. “However, that doesn’t mean the other X-Men can’t be awakened by the sound of your voice. Keep quiet and keep talking to a minimum.”

     “Right. Hey, you want any of this pizza?” Deadpool said, opening up the old pizza box on the kitchen counter. “It’s really good stuff, even cold. Must be some local place. Let’s see…. Piz-za… Hut…. Gonna have to remember that.”

     Gauntlet covered his face with both hands and groaned.

     Domino rolled her eyes before replying, “Uh, that’s great, Deadpool….but we kind of have a mission to get to. Let’s get to the subbasement.”

     As all three agents walked softly towards the main elevator, Deadpool whispered, “So, Gauntlet… am I gonna be able to kill any of the X-Kids eventually? Pwetty pwease? ‘Cause it was honestly kinda boring just, y’know, slapping a few blinky things on a few foreheads and leaving the rest of ‘em alone.”

     “You forget, Deadpool, that H.Y.D.R.A. is a secret organization,” Gauntlet said. “Minimal footprints. We massacre everyone except our target, in an organization that’s this well-known to the public, and people are bound to take notice. Kidnapping and stunning a few isn’t likely to involve anyone outside of the actual X-Men in terms of retribution. And by the time they notice it’ll be too late for them to do anything about this.”

     “That makes way too much sense,” Deadpool whined. “Can’t I kill just one?! Oh, wait, no, I forgot, killing is like Lays’ potato chips… I couldn’t kill just one…”

     Gauntlet suddenly put a palm up in front of Deadpool’s face, sniffing the air. “Sssshh! Any of you suddenly pick up the scent I’m getting?”

     “Well, I don’t have a honker like yours, so no,” Deadpool replied.

     “I hear him,” Domino suddenly said, rolling around and firing a shot from her sniper rifle with one smooth motion.

     Domino hit her target right in his chest—but it didn’t faze him. As soon as her bullet struck the figure’s chest, a purple spark suddenly leapt from it to the figure, and the bullet dropped to the floor.

     “Thanks for the kinetic energy donation, Neena,” the figure smirked, a purple energy ball now appearing in one of his hands. “But I already came with plenty, thanks.”

     “Maverick,” Gauntlet sneered, charging up his gun. “Ever on the vigilante crusade, eh?”

     “You know me too well, Gauntlet,” Maverick replied, his blonde eyebrows narrowing. “But not well enough, apparently—otherwise you would have planned for my appearance. Three of your H.Y.D.R.A. cronies guarding the perimeter say hi, by the way.”

     “Great,” Domino groaned. “Well, there goes an easy in-and-out mission.”

     “Hey, it’s a two-parter,” Deadpool said, shrugging. “You gotta expect this kind of stuff.”

     “….What?”

     “Nothin’.”

To be continued….
 

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