The White Queen rolled her eyes the moment she heard Richard's teasing question. Her expression shifted almost immediately, softening into something far more intimate as she slipped her arms around his neck. Her red lips parted slightly, and she spoke in a low, velvety voice that brushed against his senses.
"As long as you like it," she murmured, her tone warm and unguarded. "Any position you want is fine with me."
The scent of her perfume mixed with the night air, and Richard felt heat coil in his lower abdomen. He didn't hesitate. His hands settled around her slender waist, pulling her closer as their bodies pressed together for a brief, charged moment.
Then he activated teleportation.
The White Queen assumed he was taking her back to the hotel in Las Vegas, ready to resume the unfinished "discussion" from earlier in the afternoon. For a heartbeat, anticipation flickered in her eyes. But when the world reassembled around them, it wasn't a luxury suite that greeted her.
It was a rooftop in Orlando.
Richard was tempted, of course. He wasn't immune to her charm. But temptation wasn't the same as priority, and he still had unfinished business. The system mission, One-Winged Angel (II), remained incomplete.
From Shaw's memories, he had already located the facility where Wanda and Pietro were being held. He had also extracted key information about them.
First, their age.
They were younger than he had expected. Just eighteen years old, the same age as their original comic counterparts at certain points in continuity.
Second, their abilities.
Pietro possessed super speed, exactly as anticipated. Wanda, however, was listed in Shaw's understanding as having telekinesis and telepathy.
Richard knew better.
After reviewing the memory fragments of her demonstrations, he was certain what she wielded wasn't ordinary telekinesis or mind-reading. It was chaos magic.
Shaw had misidentified it because he lacked the framework to recognize it. To him, it looked like telekinesis with mental interference layered on top. But Richard understood the difference. Chaos magic was ancient, primordial, and fundamentally distinct from standard mutant psionics.
It wasn't just another ability.
It was one of the oldest independent forces in existence.
Finally, their appearance.
Both siblings were striking. Pietro was sharp-featured and athletic, his silver hair matching the speed in his eyes. Wanda, even at eighteen, already carried herself with a presence that drew attention effortlessly. Her figure, though partially concealed by prison attire in Shaw's memory, was undeniably well-formed.
Orlando wasn't far from Miami. Less than four hundred kilometers separated the two cities, a distance that would take hours by car. For Richard, it was nothing more than a thought.
Now standing atop a residential building, he looked down at the structure ahead. The sign near its entrance read "Marine Biology Research Institute."
The White Queen frowned slightly as she followed his gaze. "Wanda and Pietro are inside that building?"
"Yes," Richard replied evenly. "And they're not the only ones."
The institute appeared ordinary at first glance, complete with modest signage and security lighting. But beneath the facade, it functioned as one of the Hellfire Club's hidden facilities.
After cooperating with the Mutant Affairs Department on enhanced clone research, Shaw had quietly retained certain captured mutants for his own purposes. Those he found especially promising were never officially logged. They were kept here instead.
Richard had confirmed something else through Shaw's memories. Shaw did not know Wanda and Pietro were Magneto's children. He had captured them solely because of their powers.
Whether they were truly Magneto's children remained uncertain.
Comic canon had shifted repeatedly over the years. In some timelines, they were Magneto's twins. In others, they were the children of a previous Scarlet Witch named Natalya. In still newer versions, they weren't mutants at all, but products of genetic experimentation by the High Evolutionary.
Even the film universes contradicted one another. In one continuity, they gained powers from the Mind Stone. In another, they were born mutants tied directly to Magneto.
Here, they were eighteen. And until DNA testing confirmed anything, their lineage was speculation.
One thing was certain.
They carried the X-gene.
"What happens after you rescue them?" the White Queen asked. "Do you plan to bring them with us?"
"We'll decide later," Richard answered.
He hadn't finalized that choice. But she clearly interpreted his tone as leaning toward keeping them close.
Before she could continue the discussion, Richard cut it short. "No more delays. We're going in."
She nodded once.
His arm wrapped around her waist again, and the world shifted.
They reappeared on the second floor of the institute.
The building had three levels. The first floor functioned as a legitimate laboratory space to maintain appearances. The second housed imprisoned mutants. The third was reserved for enhanced clone experimentation.
Though Shaw and the Mutant Affairs Department collaborated, they did not share everything. Each side retained secrets. The three enhanced clones Shaw had brought aboard his yacht earlier that evening were simply his agreed-upon share.
They were dividends. Nothing more.
Richard and the White Queen materialized in the corridor outside the holding cells. Staff and guards reacted instantly, reaching for weapons or alarms.
They froze in place.
Richard's telepathy pinned their minds effortlessly, locking their bodies in rigid silence. Without sparing them another glance, he walked forward.
Moments later, he stopped outside a reinforced metal cell.
Instead of drawing his blade, he raised his right hand and invoked magnetic field control.
With a sharp metallic groan, the heavy door—over ten centimeters thick—ripped free from its frame. It flew across the hallway and slammed into the opposite wall with a thunderous crash.
Inside stood Pietro.
He wore a white prison uniform, a black suppression collar secured tightly around his neck. His silver hair caught the sterile lighting as he stepped forward cautiously, eyes locked on Richard with suspicion.
Richard didn't address him yet.
He turned and walked toward the adjacent cell.
Pietro followed immediately.
Though this was their first face-to-face encounter, Pietro recognized him. He and Wanda had been captured only two weeks earlier, but before that, they had followed news reports obsessively. Like countless young mutants across the country, they had watched the footage of Richard dismantling the Los Angeles branch of the Mutant Affairs Department.
They had admired him.
Richard reached Wanda's cell and repeated the process.
The door tore free under magnetic force and crashed aside.
Wanda stood inside.
She wore the same white uniform, fabric plain and unflattering. Yet it did little to conceal her natural curves. Even confined, even restrained, she carried a quiet intensity.
For a brief moment, Richard assessed her calmly.
Then the system interface appeared in his vision.
[Mission "One-Winged Angel (II)" completed.]
[Reward: Shadow Flame granted.]
[Skill Shadow Flame awakened.]
The panel faded.
Richard focused back on her.
"I'm here to get you out," he said simply.
A gust of wind formed at his command. Two narrow wind blades materialized, each no longer than a handspan.
They sliced forward with precision.
The suppression collars around Wanda and Pietro's necks split cleanly and fell to the floor.
The instant the restraint dropped, Pietro blurred.
He reappeared beside Wanda in less than a heartbeat, positioning himself protectively. His posture remained tense as he studied Richard.
"We've never met," Pietro said cautiously. "Why are you helping us?"
Richard's expression remained composed.
"Because you're special," he replied evenly.
.....
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