Skull Island
After confirming his father's soul was safely secured, Ernst felt a sense of relief.
He had been deeply concerned that his aggressive interventions might trigger a massive backlash from the "World Consciousness."
Through the Cuban Missile Crisis, Ernst had realized a crucial cosmic truth: the universe's timeline possessed an immense inertia.
The broad strokes of history could not easily be broken.
However, as long as one didn't overstep and maintained a delicate, calculated control, surgical adjustments were entirely possible.
Returning to the underground laboratory, Ernst walked into the chamber housing the Cradle of Rebirth.
He marveled at the towering structure.
It resembled a massive, biomechanical matrix of crisscrossed vines, each bearing large, glowing amber "fruits."
A flicker of genuine pride crossed Ernst's face.
This Cradle stood as his undisputed masterpiece.
His gaze shifted to one specific "fruit", a transparent culture capsule, over a meter in diameter, marked with the label 05232.
Inside, a dark-skinned figure was curled in a fetal position, suspended in the fluid.
"Red Queen," Ernst called out, breaking the silence.
"What is the status of Subject 05232?"
A beam of light projected from the ceiling, coalescing into the holographic image of the red-haired AI.
"Subject 05232, codenamed Darwin, has been successfully resurrected," she reported in a clear, synthesized voice.
"He is in perfect health and can be awakened at any time."
"Excellent. Extract him now and attend to his vitals tonight. Bring him to my office tomorrow morning. I have something to discuss with him in person."
"I am pleased to serve you, Dr. Ernst."
A massive robotic arm descended from the scaffolding, gently grasped Darwin's capsule, and moved it to a conveyor belt leading to the medical awakening wing.
Ernst turned and left the chamber. He had engaged in multiple, world-shaking battles today against Wonder Woman, Erik, and a naval armada.
Even with his vastly enhanced stamina, the sheer expenditure of energy left him fatigued. He retired to his quarters, enjoyed a heavy dinner, and went to sleep.
— —
Early the next morning, Ernst sat in his private reception room, sipping his tea.
The heavy doors slid open, and Darwin walked in, looking incredibly uneasy as he took in his high-tech surroundings.
Ernst greeted him with a warm, disarming smile.
"Armando. Or... I suppose I should call you Darwin."
Darwin hesitated, taking a seat across from him.
"Now that you've been fully awakened," Ernst began,
"I believe the Red Queen has provided you with a general overview of your situation. The decision of what happens next is yours to make. You can choose to leave, or you can stay here."
Ernst leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the desk.
"Typically, to safeguard the absolute secrecy of this sanctuary, any mutant choosing to leave has their memories of this place erased. However, your situation is unique."
"Unique how?" Darwin asked cautiously.
"You were part of the X-Men. Charles Xavier possesses formidable psychic abilities, enabling him to view and alter the memories of others. I'm concerned that even if your memories are deleted, there might be psychic residual flaws he could uncover. Therefore, if you leave, we need to add a few more layers of insurance. I hope you understand."
Darwin visibly relaxed. The man was powerful, but he was speaking reasonably.
"To be honest, this all seems completely unbelievable to me right now. The fact that souls exist, and that there are ways to resurrect the dead... I understand the importance of keeping this place a secret. I am willing to cooperate with your efforts."
"Good," Ernst nodded.
"Let's formalize your choice. I already have a sense of it from your tone, but you should state it yourself."
"Although I am deeply grateful for the second chance at life you've given me," Darwin said, his expression firming with resolve, "I choose to leave. I want to return to the X-Men."
Ernst remained entirely expressionless, revealing no signs of joy or anger.
"That is your freedom, and I won't stop you. Can you share the reason for your decision?"
"I was an orphan," Darwin explained.
"Growing up, I struggled just to make a living, facing constant discrimination. I didn't have any goals until I joined the team. For the first time in my life, I felt I had achieved something meaningful. I don't want to give that up."
In truth, Darwin kept another, darker reason to himself.
He vividly remembered Shaw murdering him. Reflecting on Shaw's cryptic final words, Darwin realized Shaw had known resurrection was an option.
This entire facility had Shaw's fingerprints all over it, and Darwin wanted absolutely nothing to do with the man or his legacy ever again.
"I see," Ernst said smoothly.
"I wish you success in your goals, then. Come with me. The next step is to modify your memory, and then I will personally transport you to Charles's mansion. There weren't many witnesses to your death in that bunker. As long as Charles is willing to help you, modifying the memories of the few CIA agents involved can eliminate any hidden dangers."
Ernst stood up and walked to the medical bay. Darwin followed without hesitation.
He wasn't worried Ernst would harm him now; if Ernst wanted him dead, he would have simply left him in the void.
Ernst handed Darwin a specialized alchemical potion designed to make the mind highly malleable.
After Darwin drank it, he lay back on a clinical bed. Ernst placed his hands firmly on Darwin's temples.
Utilizing his advanced spiritual power, he carefully excised the memories of Skull Island and wove a seamless, false narrative of Darwin's body instinctively adapting to Shaw's energy and scattering, only to slowly reform over the last few days.
Once he was certain the psychic surgery was flawless, Ernst lifted the unconscious mutant.
Activating his magic, he warped them both directly to the sprawling lawns of the Xavier estate in Westchester.
Ernst dropped Darwin gently onto the grass, deliberately triggered the estate's perimeter alarm with a localized kinetic burst, and promptly melted back into the shadows.
The alarm set off a flurry of panicked activity inside the mansion.
Moments later, Hank McCoy rushed out.
Hank stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the body on the grass.
He assumed it was a cruel prank by a shapeshifting mutant, or perhaps Mystique playing a sick joke.
He shouted for the others. When they rushed out, no one could believe their eyes. They had all vividly witnessed Shaw detonate Darwin from the inside out.
It was only when Charles wheeled himself out and personally extended his telepathy into the unconscious man's brain that the truth was confirmed.
The revelation left everyone completely dumbfounded.
How could he be alive?
Regardless of the mechanics, Darwin's miraculous return was an overwhelming cause for celebration among the fractured X-Men.
— — —
While the X-Men were rejoicing in New York, the atmosphere in Magneto's newly formed Brotherhood was incredibly tense.
They had retreated to a temporary, abandoned stronghold.
Emma Frost, the White Queen, stood with her arms crossed, glaring with undisguised suspicion at Azazel. Erik, Riptide, Angel, and Mystique watched the confrontation unfold.
"Azazel," Emma demanded, her voice dripping with ice.
"Tell me your real purpose here."
To understand her paranoia, one had to look at the immediate aftermath of the beach battle.
Erik had taken Azazel to the CIA headquarters, slaughtered the guards, and freed the detained White Queen.
After some persuasion, she had chosen to seek refuge with Magneto's new vision for mutant supremacy.
When Emma heard about Shaw's death at Erik's hands, she was mentally prepared.
However, the revelation that Ernst was still alive, and had effortlessly decimated the X-Men, caught her completely off guard.
Upon hearing Ernst's name, Azazel had adopted an extremely vigilant, guarded posture, a reaction that immediately set off Emma's alarm bells.
"I said, Emma, don't be so serious," Azazel drawled, rolling his yellow eyes.
"We're all of the same kind here. Do you honestly think I would side against you?"
Erik stepped between them, attempting to defuse the hostility.
"Emma, calm down. We are all brothers and sisters now. I've decided to turn our organization into a true Mutant Brotherhood. We are companions, not enemies. We must help each other. You can't just doubt Azazel; he helped me free you."
Emma didn't relax a single muscle. She kept her diamond-hard eyes locked on the teleporter.
"No, Erik. You don't understand," Emma countered sharply.
"I was with Shaw the longest. I know how the power dynamics actually worked. Azazel may have taken orders from Shaw... but in reality, his absolute loyalty belongs to Ernst. If there was ever a conflict between Ernst and Shaw, Azazel would stand by Ernst without hesitation. As long as Ernst Shaw is alive, Azazel will never rebel against him. Therefore, if he is standing here with us, he has ulterior motives."
Angel, looking confused by the political drama, interjected.
"Wait, Emma. Aren't you a telepath? Just go directly into his brain, check his thoughts, and you'll know if he's lying."
Emma's face turned incredibly solemn.
"Exactly," Emma replied grimly.
"Finally, we've reached the crux of the terrifying matter. I can't read his thoughts."
She looked around the room, ensuring everyone was listening.
"I couldn't read Shaw, I can't read Ernst, and I can't read Azazel. Though the three of them are distinct individuals with different mutations, they somehow share a learned, artificial means to completely block my telepathy."
Hearing this revelation, the atmosphere in the room plummeted.
Erik, Mystique, and the others immediately shifted their stances, becoming highly wary of the Red Devil.
If three people possessed the exact same psychic defense, it implied a coordinated, systemic level of conspiracy.
"Tell me specifically how they defended against your telepathy," Erik inquired, his magnetic aura humming with tension.
Emma took a breath.
"The three of them use different psychic architectures. In Shaw's case, there appeared to be a literal black hole in his brain. When my power entered his mind, it was instantly sucked in and obliterated. I was physically injured because of it. Since then, I never dared to invade his mind again."
Erik nodded slowly. Charles had described experiencing the exact same phenomenon just before Shaw died.
"Go on," Erik prompted.
"Ernst's situation is the most peculiar," Emma said, a genuine shudder running down her spine.
"Even when facing Shaw and Azazel, my power can at least enter the perimeter of their brains before hitting the trap. But with Ernst... my mind cannot even penetrate the surface of his consciousness. I tried once. It felt like throwing an egg against a solid stone wall."
If Ernst had been present, he could have explained that his brain development level had surpassed 35%, making his mental power a hundred times denser than hers.
Attempting to invade his mind was a suicidal endeavor; Emma was incredibly fortunate she hadn't suffered a total mental collapse from the psychic recoil.
"And lastly, Azazel," Emma said, pointing an accusing finger at the red demon.
"I can enter his brain, but then I immediately encounter a bizarre obstacle. It's like an infinite maze. It makes it mathematically impossible for me to locate or access his actual thoughts."
After hearing the White Queen's detailed account, every eye in the room turned to the Red Devil. The suspicion was palpable.
Erik's face hardened. He addressed the teleporter with a voice that brooked no argument.
"Azazel. Give us an explanation."
-------------
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