For someone like Alex, the Mogadorians weren't a threat.
They were a checklist—something to be dealt with, eventually, when time permitted.
Once he had their locations, wiping them out would be no more difficult than flicking insects off a table.
No… his real objective lay elsewhere.
His real priority—was the Sacred Stone.
The half he held was already elevating his abilities at an exponential rate.
But with both halves?
His mind, body, and powers would undergo a second awakening.
"The other half is with Henri."
Smith didn't hesitate, his voice steady and precise.
"He's the guardian assigned to Number Four. Back when we first landed, we knew the Sacred Stone would attract attention. So to protect it, we split it in two."
He nodded toward Alex.
"I carried one half. Wayne carried the other. But when the Mogadorians ambushed us… I lost mine. Wayne gave his to Henri before he died."
It all came back to finding the Lorien.
And to do that… they needed Cerebro.
Fortunately, Hank was close.
The mutant-built psychic locator, fine-tuned to pick up alien neural frequencies, was almost ready.
A few more calibrations… and the last of the Nine would no longer be hiding.
"Smith, Number Six—get some rest. Eat, recover. You're safe here."
Alex gave them a nod, then turned and exited.
Raven followed at his side, her boots clicking softly down the corridor.
She glanced at him sideways, her expression unreadable.
"Alex, are you really planning to help them wipe out the Mogs?"
There was something in her tone. A question beneath the question.
"It's not about helping."
"The moment they attacked me, it became my fight too."
Raven exhaled, frowning.
She knew Alex didn't hold grudges lightly. But when he did, he made sure those responsible were erased.
"What exactly happened that day?"
He summarized without flair, but the facts alone made her eyes widen.
Even she had to admit—they picked the wrong enemy.
"They made an enemy they couldn't afford," she muttered.
"Where's Hank?" Alex asked, changing topics.
"Where else? Lab. He's been glued to those alien weapons you brought back. Hasn't left in three days."
No one geeked out over new tech like Beast.
Sure enough, when Alex entered the subterranean lab, he found Hank bent over a disassembled Mogadorian plasma rifle, goggles strapped to his forehead, muttering in excited Latin.
He didn't even notice Alex enter.
"Fascinating! The plasma channeling mechanism—so elegant! It's like they painted with radiation!"
Alex leaned casually on a console.
"Glad to see you're having fun."
Hank finally looked up, startled.
"Alex! You're just in time. I've reverse-engineered the capacitor array—it uses a hybrid of ionized gas and magnetic recoil stabilization. I—"
"Hank. Cerebro. Timeline?"
The scientist blinked, then grinned.
Seven days was nothing.
While he waited, Alex returned to the training chamber.
This time, not to test strength or durability.
But to master the thing that once made him vulnerable:
At first, he couldn't even levitate a button. He had to squint and concentrate just to nudge a coin across the table.
On Day Five, he could lift a full-grown adult off the floor with a glance.
He was progressing fast.
Still… he knew he was far from his ceiling.
Elsewhere in the compound, Smith and Number Six began settling in.
They slowly earned the trust of the base's mutants—old and new.
Even the more skeptical members—like Logan—grudgingly accepted their presence.
As for Black Robe, the captured Mogadorian?
Interrogation wasn't his strength.
Mostly because Alex didn't ask politely.
On the fifth day, Raven entered the training room unannounced.
"Alex. We've got a problem."
He caught the weight in her voice instantly.
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she handed him something.
The cover showed a horned, red-skinned figure glaring out with stone-like fists and a massive gun slung on his back.
Raven crossed her arms, her voice flat.
"Emma and Liz both confirmed it. He's real."
Alex's brow arched slightly.
"I thought he was just a myth."
"So did I." She sighed. "But Liz says he's not just real. He's active."
"A literal demon from hell."
Raven pinched the bridge of her nose.
"This world's gone insane."
After aliens, vampires, psychic mutants, werewolves, witches, and interdimensional entities?
A demon was just next on the list.
"A demon, huh? Never met one of those alive before."
He grinned, stretching his arms behind his head.
"Alex, this isn't funny. It's a demon."
Raven's tone turned urgent.
Demons didn't play by mortal rules.
They weren't born—they were summoned. Created. Bound.
They broke science and tore through faith.
To most people, that was reason enough to panic.
But Alex wasn't most people.
He tapped the cover of the comic thoughtfully.
Red skin. Horns. Super strength.
And allegedly—the son of Satan.
That was quite the résumé.
Alex tilted his head.
"Question is…" he murmured,
"Can he survive one punch?"
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