I walked away with 30K in Red Orbs after thoroughly cleaning out the monastery. With a grin on my face, I made a mental note to thank Isha thoroughly right before shoving my blade up her ass.

With the Red Orb I had banked, upgrading Rebellion was the obvious move, yet I hesitated.

I still had an Incursion coming up with 5000 Red Orbs guaranteed. While I appreciated the unexpected windfall of the monastery fight, upgrading Rebellion to Grade 4 might not be the smartest choice right now, not when I could buy life-saving purchases and skills that would safeguard me during the coming fights.

If today taught me anything, it was that there was always bigger fish, and it paid to be ready.

That point was further driven home when I found the rifle that the Harpy had used.

It had a long barrel with inscriptions etched into the side and a purple gem just above the trigger. The barrel was slightly warped from my corrosive energy, and a hairline fracture ran down the side of the piece.

Thunderer (Damaged)

A Lightning rifle made from the affinity stone of a greater demon. Fashioned from silver and infernal steel. In the right hands, it has the potential to call the full Power of a Lightning Strike.

-75% efficiency and power because of incompatible affinity.

Each shot costs 80 DE

Abilities: Mid-tier Lightning Strike, Low-tier Durability.

I tested the gun by firing down range the mountain. It sent an instantaneous bolt of lightning that blackened a spot a mile away.

It was still powerful, but it simply did not compare to the feats it was capable of in the Harpy's hands.

So, I went into the store with the intention of future-proofing my arsenal and increasing my chance at survival.

Focused Shot was quickly becoming one of the cornerstones of my build, and I needed weapons that could withstand the juice without completely splintering, and that's where Arcane Gunsmithing came in.

(C)Arcane Gunsmithing--- 8500 Red Orbs

Grants basic knowledge and techniques required to create guns and other armaments powered by arcane energies.

4x (C) Healing Potions—2000 Red Orbs

Common rank healing Potion. Restores 400 HP

3x Full Body Stim injection—2100 Red Orbs.

A powerful cocktail that drastically increases the regeneration of your energies by 10x for five seconds.

(R)Arcane Blacksmithing—8500 Red Orbs

Grants the basic knowledge and techniques required to create weapons and other armaments powered by arcane energies.

(C) Evasion—9000 Red Orbs

Increases natural speed and reaction by 15% just before you're hit by an attack that would've claimed 10% of your health or exceeded your perception threshold. Bonus lasts for 2 seconds. Cost 10 stamina per activation.

Arcane Blacksmithing was an obvious companion to Gunsmithing. I had every intention of forging my own Devil Arms as Sparda and Eva did.

As for Evasion, it was my budget sixth sense. If I had it just a few hours prior, I probably would've been able to dodge both attacks that nearly killed me.

I bought the healing potions and Stim injections for emergencies.

All told, the skill I really wanted was Battle Meditation.

(R)Battle Meditation—80,000

Meditate every second of every day. Increases your passive regeneration by 25% as long as you're moving.

The description says it all. I didn't know if it would replace my current meditation skill, but it sounded more practical than sitting down and meditating for 30 minutes, especially with both of my resource pools so low. Devil Trigger was an energy drain, and with my injury, I needed every advantage I could get.

With the day I had, 80k didn't seem outside the realm of possibilities anymore. A few invasions here and a some demon extermination quests there, and I was sure I would gather the Red Orbs.

---

I stepped through a portal to Kamar Taj, where the ancient one was waiting for me with a pleased look on her face. Around us, sorcerers stared at Jean and me with reverence and respect. Word likely spread of our accomplishments. We went from nobodies to respected disciples overnight, even though neither of us knew a lick of magical training.

I would've found the situation humorous if I'd not just nearly died twice over in the last 24 hours.

"It seemed I've chosen my new disciples well," Yao said. "You've both exceeded my expectations, especially you, Jean. You're adjusting better than I hoped."

"Your advice really helped," Jean said, "and helping people. That really centered me. It reminded me why I wanted to join the X-men in the first place."

Yao smiled and turned to me, and I had a complicated look on my face.

"We need to talk."

In the privacy of her study, I laid out my new plan for her. Invading Pierce's home, stealing information from his head, and hunting down the heads of Hydra to prevent the passing of the Mutant Registration Act.

"You're going on the radical offensive?"

"There's no choice, really," I said. "You've seen the future; you know what Hydra will likely become. I think it's smarter to take them out in their infancy before they become a real problem."

Yao shook her head. "Your logic is sound, but what you're suggesting will only slow the tide, not avert it. The act will likely still pass, even after you systematically remove Hydra's leadership. Mutants and other empowered humans are a threat from which normal humans cannot hope to defend themselves from."

"We're not arguing that," I said. "But we'll take all of the time we can get. And we'd rather an uncorrupt government lead the charge, not some power-hungry megalomaniac."

"Fair." Yao nodded and stretched her palms forward. Two plain white masks appeared in them. Both were oddly reminiscent of the Dreamrunners.

"To obscure your identity," she said. "We typically limit ourselves to dimensional threat, but today, I'll make a notable exception. I'll send a familiar face to guide you."

I took the mask, and Jean did the same. Devil Eye identified the Mask as Siren's Veil.

Siren's Veil

Generates an imperfect but false face to replace your own, obscuring your true form from all who look at you. The magically inclined will sense a wrongness about your face, but cannot fully describe it.

"Tread carefully," she warned, looking at Jean. "This path you're on will make you more enemies than friends, but I understand it's necessary. You both chart your own paths now, free from the scrutiny of fate. But do not let that freedom lead you down a dark path, young Phoenix. For if you fall, so does everything."

Yao's final words sent chills running down my spine.

---

Wolverine

One moment I was lecturing Dante, and the next, I was flipping ass over head in the middle of bum-fucking-nowhere Ohio with a ruined combat suit and a great deal of pain. It took a while for my healing factor to spit out the bullet lodged deep in my gut, and I cursed like a sailor when it finally came out.

"Swear to god, I'm rippin' that kid's head off when I find him," I growled as I scanned the woodlands around me. I saw a farm in the distance and approached it in my bloody combat suit.

I was in the backyard of a small family, helping myself to their clean laundry, when it hit me.

I nearly stumbled as a veritable tsunami of emotions and memories assaulted me.

It came in flashes—all of the time I'd been upset at Xavier, Black Ops mission he had me carry out in his stead. Worse were the memories that did not exist to begin with. Several holiday dinners, conversations, and lazy days were organically planted in, replacing days I spent away drinking away my sorrow and mourning my dead wife.

That fucking asshole.

For Christ's sake, Xavier planted memories of us fishing.

I didn't even fucking like Fish!

The loyalty, compassion, and respect I had for Xavier rapidly dissolved, alongside his deep programming, and what replaced it was hate. A deep hate for Xavier and everything he represented.

His school

His mission.

The Chil…

I let out a ragged breath, steadying myself before I spiraled any further. I stopped myself before the hate spread to the children and the rest of the team. They were victims like I was, like Jean was, like the kid was.

"He tried to fucking tell us…" I muttered, looking down at my hands. I'd unknowingly unsheathed my claws. I retracted it and continued dressing.

I needed to get back to New York.

The kids need me. The Prof was dead, I could feel it in my gut. He wouldn't have let me remember if he wasn't.

The Shit Xavier pulled made me look like a saint, but he still looked out for his own.

Charles took his protection along with him when he died, and that meant they were all coming for us now—the government, the Brotherhood, the extremists, everyone.