"No, Raven, Emma, Vanessa—you three have more important work to do."
Facing the enthusiastic volunteers among his fellow mutants, Alex simply shook his head and turned them all down.
"Keep this base secure. This is our headquarters."
"Alex, you're overthinking it," Copycat replied casually. "We just built this place. Who's gonna find it, let alone attack it?"
And let's be real—this was Alex they were talking about.
The guy who went on a solo rampage through the Pentagon and left it a bloodbath.
The one who singlehandedly cowed the entire U.S. government into silence.
"Still, the base is far from complete, and we're short on hands," Alex said, still shaking his head.
"The Cerebro Amplifier, the Blackbird Jet—I need you three to assist Hank and get them operational as fast as possible."
"And more importantly, someone needs to be here to hold down the fort. No one's better suited than you."
Though guarding a base sounded boring, they had to admit—Alex had a point.
This massive underground facility wasn't something you could just hand over to Hank, a tech nerd, and a kid with plant powers.
They needed experienced veterans like Emma Frost and Copycat to oversee things.
Sigh. There just weren't enough people.
Everyone couldn't help but feel a bit of frustration in their hearts.
"Alright, everyone—wait for my good news."
With that, Alex gave the gathered mutants a casual wave, then stepped outside.
In a sonic flash, he rocketed into the sky and vanished beyond the clouds.
Missouri, Bourbon Street — An Underground Casino
At a poker table, a man in a trench coat and jazz hat was performing flashy tricks with a deck of cards.
Each card danced through the air in graceful, impossible arcs—as if alive—leaving the watching crowd dazzled.
There was no doubt—this was Gambit.
"Are you Remy LeBeau?"
A voice rang out from across the table.
On the other side, a rugged man in a cowboy jacket—Wolverine—locked eyes with Gambit and asked bluntly.
Gambit's hand paused mid-shuffle.
"Do I owe you money?"
"Then yeah, I'm Remy LeBeau."
Gambit grinned and gestured for Logan to take a seat.
Wolverine dropped into the chair without hesitation. "You're drawing a lot of attention, man. Cops are crawling all over mutants these days. You sure this is smart?"
All those fancy card tricks? Pretty suspicious.
"Mutant?" Gambit gave a dry laugh. "You saying my card skills are that impressive? Thanks for the compliment."
He smoothly denied everything without changing expression.
Sometimes the best disguise... was not hiding at all.
Logan shrugged. Gambit clearly wasn't going to admit anything, so he didn't press it.
"Big blind: 100. Small blind: 50," Gambit said, finishing the shuffle. "You in?"
"I've got... seventeen bucks," Logan replied deadpan. "What does that get me?"
The gamblers around the table looked at Logan like he'd lost his mind.
"You'd be better off taking a cab home," Gambit muttered.
"I haven't finished what I came here to do. Can't waste good cash."
"Oh? And what exactly are you here to do?"
"Anthony Collison. I'm looking for him," Logan said flatly. "He's working on an island for someone named Stryker. I want to know where that island is."
"That's funny—because I'm looking for that place too."
Logan and Gambit both turned, surprised.
A young man, still a teenager—walked in confidently and approached their table without hesitation.
Both Gambit and Wolverine blinked.
He was way too young to be in a casino, much less talking like that.
And claiming he was after a covert mutant experimentation base? Seriously?
"Kid, this ain't a place for you," Logan said flatly after a pause.
"Yeah, kid. Don't keep your mom and dad waiting," Gambit added mockingly.
They both ignored what he'd said.
"I know who you two are—Gambit and Wolverine," Alex said calmly, ignoring their jabs.
"So how about we skip the formalities and get down to business?"
"Logan, I know you're looking for that island. So am I."
"Remy—you're scared of Stryker, afraid of ending up in one of his labs again. But deep down, you want to burn that place to the ground, don't you?"
"So you see? We're all after the same thing."
Their expressions shifted—from surprised, to cautious.
"Who are you, kid?" Logan growled, his eyes narrowing.
Gambit didn't speak, but his sharp gaze didn't leave Alex for a second.
"Same as you," Alex replied casually. "And you know exactly what I mean."
"Stryker did something to you too?" Logan asked slowly, piecing it together.
"Something like what he did to you," Alex said, his tone unchanged. "That's why I'm after him."
"So… same goal, huh?" Logan scoffed. "Well, I've only got one rule—don't get in my way."
Alex smirked. "Logan, you're giving yourself too much credit."
"So then," he turned to Gambit, "Ready to tell me where the island is?"
Logan ignored him, locking eyes with Gambit again. "Remy?"
Gambit didn't answer.
Suddenly, he flicked his wrist—charging the deck with kinetic energy and flinging the cards forward.
Dozens of glowing cards shot toward them like bullets.
Logan was blasted backward by the explosive force, smashing through the casino wall with a crash that left a massive crater.
The cards were deadly.
The cards fluttered against him like dry leaves in the wind.
They didn't even leave a scratch.
Alex remained seated at the table, utterly unmoved.
He didn't even blink.
"…Was that supposed to be an attack?" Alex asked with a mocking smile.
"Because it felt more like a tickle."
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