Hauled through the sky in their metallic prison, the Dark Angels passed the time lost in slumber. Though their captivity within the cold, grey walls of the Weapon X facility had ceased, they were still prisoners nonetheless, yet again confined between chilling, dull panels.

They all slept, all five of them, or at least, that would be what one who was not of keen eyes would have assumed as fact. No, Ky Thatcher, the mutant then known as Tempo, posed as a slumbering fool, when in reality, his eyes were as roused as one's eyes could be behind the black, one-sided glass on his helmet.

He wouldn't dare sleep even a wink with the likes of Captain Eagle sharing the same confined space as he. After hearing him spewing his insolent opinions, his ideals rooted in Genoism and anti-mutant rhetoric, Ky's eyes would remain vigilant.

The door to the cockpit crept open, though unknowingly, Captain Eagle and Ky Thatcher locked eyes, two gazes filled with resentment for the other. 'They're all alseep.' Eagle's inner voice sounded relieved at that fact as he wended his way over toward the seats in front of the young mutants. Unbeknownst to him, Tempo's stare was locked onto him, remaining that way as Eagle's bottom planted itself down on his desired seat.

Once again, the soldier's eagle eyes scanned from left to right, from Xiao on one end, all the way to Pietro on the other. Then, face in hands, Eagle exhaled, bemoaning as he trembled in his boots.

He was afraid...

Afraid of something only he knew, something he wouldn't share with anyone.

Ky watched with curious eyes, spotting the trembling, hearing the sighing; wondering just what it was that made Eagle's hard-assed mask, his facade, begin to slowly fall off of his face.

This metaphorical mask, that veneer he held so dearly, was nearly fully displaced, nearly permanently removed just moments before that mask went right back onto his face. Eagle took a deep breath, wiping away all indications of fear and uncertainty, and just then, that same arrogant, conceited vizard was once again plastered on his face.

He stood up, looking down at the children beneath him before speaking. "Hey!" he bellowed, startling them awake. Ky, the false slumberer, played along and acted as if he too were jolted awake. "We're landing in Norway in five minutes."

"Norway? I thought you said we were going to Russia." Quicksilver, the quick thinker, failed to take the time to comprehend why Norway was the destination. Though Eagle had an answer, Ky answered for him.

"Russia would shoot us down. Right, Captain?" Ky's furrowed eyebrows, along with his dark eyes glaring spitefully at the captain were hidden beneath his black visor, yet, that hatred unseen was heard through the cheekiness of his words.

"Right. We land in Norway, then we make our way to Moscow, Russia on foot." This plan of course was being directed by none other than Waller himself, knowing that the Russians were expecting to be infiltrated once word of their secret weapon slipped between the cracks of their confined base of operations.

As the devil's name was thus spoken, an alarm blared within the panels of the cabin, compelling all six of its occupants to suddenly shift into the mindset of combat. The Russians knew that their enemies wouldn't attack them head-on, no, they were far too wise to assume that.

The pilot, the one operating the mutants' transportable cell, spoke to them all through the intercoms from above. "We've got company. Three Su-57s." he spoke calmly, without fear, a sentiment that was shared by the mutants. They were all bred to be fighters, whether it be before or after their training within that hellish Weapon X facility, they were programmed and ready.

"Iceman." Eagle spoke just his name, and as if the young man's body had a mind of its own, ice slowly began to shroud his pale skin, crackling and hissing as the boy beneath was covered from top to bottom. "On it." as those chilled spoken words left his icy lips, a hatch on the ceiling of the plane opened and Iceman lept out.

His stone-cold expression; his icy eyes gazed forward at the fighter jets in front of him which tailed the plane his partners resided in.

Using the moisture in the air, Iceman froze the atmosphere around him, creating his own glassy path to skate forward upon. Seeing the icy freak gliding toward them, all three fighter jets shifted their attention toward the Iceman, firing their cannons and missiles in an attempt to stop him.

An attempt it was and would only be, as each missile fired destroyed the path behind Iceman, though he simply created anew as he continued forth. These humans needed machines, gasoline, computers, and so much more just to reach a fraction of the boy's power, a fraction so minuscule, it pales in comparison.

Iceman needed not of any sort of external help. No, just the moisture in the air and the X-gene that he ever so proudly held within him. As he shifted and weaved past each and every last attack, he held out his right hand, a right hand that was taking in any and all moisture from the cold air around it that it could.

His hand, trembling due to the overwhelming amount of power held between his chilling fingers, rose past his shoulders before he pushed his hand forward, firing icy missiles of his own.

Like darts striking a board, Iceman struck each target head-on, impaling each pilot's helmeted face. Simultaneously, all three fighter jets veered to the side as their pilots lives ceased to exist.

Iceman took a long icy stare at the falling metallic coffins. Though mentally, he was cold, much like his body when shrouded in ice, he was transparent. Those icy, blue eyebrows of his were low, scrunching against each other at the center of his brow. His eyes, those chilling, see-through eyes, were steadily slumping like melting ice. His mouth, those frozen lips of his, fell down as the corpses of his enemies did.

'They turned me into a killer.'

Though this moment in time was brief, just a few mere seconds, it was nearly an eternity in his own mind. Snapping back into the real world, back into the real stream of time, Iceman froze the air around him and made his way toward his mates.

However, lost in his own head, Iceman failed to notice that there was in fact a fourth jet flying directly behind him, hidden behind the clouds whilst lining up the perfect shot. Once aligned, the pilot placed his thumb on the button meant to kill, ready to turn this living ice sculpture into glassy shards.

𝘽𝘼𝙉𝙂!

The sounds of glass shattering were heard by none as the life within someone who was once among the living was snuffed out in an instant. That fourth jet, that fourth pilot, joined their comrades beneath them as they too began to plummet toward the Earth. Iceman turned around with his icy eyes then widened before looking forward once more to see Ky Thatcher, Tempo, holding onto a scoped rifle from within the Dark Angels' transport vehicle with its ramp down.

To those who were not of the ability to sense time manipulation, Tempo shot and killed the pilot with the perfect shot, aimed right between the eyes on his very first attempt. Though for Ky, thirty-seven shots were fired from that steaming barrel, thirty-six missing before the thirty-seventh met its target head-on.

And just as quickly as a bullet travels, Ky Thatcher was a killer himself. Unlike his crystalline ally, Tempo's emotions were confined within, his masked face hiding any expression that may have been shown, his heart in a coffin deep inside his chest.

Though one had the key.

Xiao, the Answer, had the key to that coffin, the key to that aching heart. She had the ability to rip off that mask of his and see past his dark, blank exterior to see the emotional boy beneath it all.

'They turned us all into killers.'

Iceman landed on the ramp, reverting back to his human form as he walked past Tempo. "Thanks, Ky." His voice was of course cold as it always was but beneath that chilling tone were hints of gratitude. Ky was his savior, reminding him that he was not invincible and that this was no game. He was humbled and he was thankful. He'd never let anything like that happen again.

Iceman's ceiling in terms of strength would be vast, truly incredible, though he of course was still new to using his abilities, only having two months of experience within a confined space due to hiding them his whole life. (Author translation: Iceman is broken actually but he becomes broken once he learns more about his powers. He doesn't just wake up knowing how to do his wildest feats. Getting shot by a jet would do literally nothing to peak Iceman but young, still developing, and learning Iceman would take serious damage.)

And so, just minutes later, the plane landed gently on the Earth, a privilege that wasn't shared with their enemies. There was a bus waiting for them, and swiftly, each member of the Dark Angels boarded said bus and made their way to their next destination. Silence filled the air, though it was broken by Eagle's proud voice.

"We're making our way to a hotel now. We'll spend the night there and in the morning, we're back on the move." the younglings didn't say a word. Obviously, they knew they'd be attacked, but actually experiencing it was something entirely different. Those feelings of dread, that fear of the unknown, the knowledge of falling deeper into the hole dug by Waller, the hole of being a killer against their will was growing steadily by the second.

For Xiao, feeling this aura in the air was nauseating. She covered her ears as if that would help, but everyone's thoughts, inside and outside the vehicle wouldn't be stopped by her pointless mannerism. Tom took notice, looking at her and Ky who tried his best to comfort her at that very moment.

Before long, the bus stopped before a run down, nearly falling apart hostel. Its chipped walls, whose last layer of paint was quite possibly a century old, would be seen as beneath anyone else. However, for the Dark Angels, it had that terrible facility they were confined in beat.

"Let's go." Eagle led the pack, carrying his belongings as did his walking weaponized puppets carrying their own behind him. As they entered, the floor creaked beneath their feet, showing the age of this place

Eagle stopped, looking back at his soldiers before giving them his orders. "Iceman and Fixer, you have room one. Tempo, Quicksilver, and I have room two. Answer, you have room three to yourself." the Captain's gaze looked directly at Ky before his words continued. "No visiting rooms. Now go."

Bags in tow, all five Dark Angels and their reluctant captain headed straight for their rooms.

Xiao, entering her room first, frowned at the chipping walls, and scuffed and scratched floors. There was a single bed in the room, one so ancient one would think it would collapse upon feeling the weight of a human even as light as she. The single, flickering light hanging from the ceiling added a sort of haunting mystique to the atmosphere, though Xiao somehow found it more comfortable than her prior dormitory.

However, she closed her eyes and inhaled, taking in that woody and perhaps moldy smell as her mind was finally at ease. This hostel was completely empty, the only ones staying there were the Dark Angels themselves and the owner of the place.

It was as if this place was chosen to accommodate her.

Room two was much the same. Old, moldy, and falling apart. There was a single bed, one that Quicksilver hastily ran toward in an instant to claim as his own. "Take the couch, Tempo. I'd rather sleep by the door." Eagle dropped his bags as he said this, which Ky had no qualms with.

Room one, hosting both Iceman and Fixer, was the exact same as the others. "All yours." Tom spoke, walking toward the couch upon relinquishing the right to the bed to Bobby. "Are you sure?" Bobby was reluctant to do so as he was thinking of relinquishing it to Tom, though Tom was just quicker to make the offer.

"Yeah, I don't plan on sleeping much tonight anyway. I have a project I want to work on." There was a single desk in the room, one that would occupy both Tom and his backpack filled with things he and Ky swiped on the way to the hostel. Though it was the first day, Ky and Tom stayed true to their escape plan, gathering what they needed while doing their damndest to not get caught.

"I see." Bobby made his way to the bed and plopped himself onto it, staring up at the cracking ceiling above with his arms behind his head. His mind was blank just briefly, though soon enough that emptiness was filled with dreadful thoughts.

Fear.

Anger.

Hatred.

Self-loathing.

Shame.

Bobby was cold, much like his body when shrouded in ice, he was transparent, along with that mask on his face.

Transparent enough for even Tom to take notice.