American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

"Then what do we do?"

“Follow the woods along the road,” One-Eyed said. “Keep hidden, but follow the direction of the road. That way we can make our way to town without being completely exposed in the open.”

They moved cautiously along the edge of the road, using trees and bushes for cover. Occasionally a car would drive by, and each time they would crouch down and wait until the vehicle was out of sight before continuing their journey.

About an hour later, they saw the first sign – a faded road sign that read: “Clayton, 3 miles”.

“Clayton,” Logan read the name, “I remember this place. It’s a small town, maybe a few hundred people, with a gas station and a grocery store.”

"Is there a phone?" Lynn asked.

"There should be. These kinds of small towns usually still have public phone booths."

Three miles. About five kilometers. In their current condition, it might take them more than an hour. But the finish line is in sight.

They continued forward, their pace quickening. Hope was a powerful motivator.

However, Victor woke up when they were about two kilometers from the town.

At first, it was just a slight movement—the mind manipulator strapped to Logan's back began to groan faintly. Then his eyes opened, his blue eyes gleaming dangerously in the sunlight.

“Put me down,” Logan said immediately, taking Victor off his back and leaning him against a tree.

Everyone cautiously took a few steps back, except for Little Rascal—who instead took a step forward and looked directly into Victor's eyes.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice cold.

Victor looked at her, a weak smile on his face. "Anna Marie, you look different."

“Because I have memories of you in my head,” the little rascal said. “I know what you’ve done, I know what kind of person you are. You disgust me.”

“Those memories...are not the whole me,” Victor’s voice was hoarse, “you only saw what I wanted you to see—”

“Shut up,” the little rascal interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear your lies. I’ve seen enough lies in your memories.”

Victor's eyes shifted to Lynn. "Agent Lynn, you look worse than last time. Didn't Xavier's training teach you how to avoid injury?"

“You’ve said enough,” Logan roared. “Say one more word and I’ll knock you out again.”

Victor looked at Logan, a flicker of fear in his eyes—perhaps it was the information he remembered about the old soldier that made him realize Logan wasn't joking.

“I can help you,” Victor said, changing tactics. “That organization won’t let me go. In their eyes, being captured and betraying are no different. If you hand me over to them, they will kill me. But if you protect me, I can tell you everything about them—”

“We already have your memories,” the little rascal said coldly, “and we don’t need your ‘help’.”

Victor's expression changed. He clearly hadn't expected this.

“Those memories are incomplete,” he said. “Some information I’ve protected with a mental barrier, so you can’t see it—”

“You mean the information about the Brotherhood’s upper echelons?” Rogue retorted. “Or the information about contacts within the government? You overestimated your mental barriers, Victor. Those barriers were absorbed along with your power.”

Victor's face turned deathly pale.

“Enough,” the one-eyed man interrupted, “we don’t have time to argue. Gag him and move on.”

Logan took a strip of cloth from his backpack, stuffed it into Victor's mouth, and then hoisted him onto his back again. The mind manipulator's eyes were filled with anger and fear, but he was unable to speak or move.

They continued on, but the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Victor's awakening meant new danger—who knew what other hidden tricks he might have up his sleeve?

The sun was already beginning to set when Clayton came into view.

This is a typical American rural town, even smaller than Meridian. A main street runs through the town center, lined with low wooden and brick houses. There's a white church, a post office, a grocery store, and—most importantly—a gas station.

The gas station, located on the edge of town, was an old-fashioned, stand-alone station with two pumps and a small convenience store. A pickup truck and an old sedan were parked in the parking lot; both appeared to belong to local residents.

“It looks normal,” Sarah said, but her tone was tinged with doubt.

“That’s perfectly normal,” Logan said softly, his nose twitching as if he were sniffing something. “I don’t like this feeling.”

"What do you smell?" Lynn asked.

“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Logan frowned, “there’s a… strange smell. Like a mixture of metal and chemicals.”

“It’s probably just the smell of gasoline from the gas station,” the one-eyed man said, but his hand was already on the adjuster of his goggles, ready for battle at any moment.

Lynn observed the gas station, trying to spot anything unusual. The convenience store windows reflected the setting sun, obscuring the view inside. The two parked cars were nothing special, just ordinary old vehicles.

But Logan's intuition rarely goes wrong.

“We’ll split into two groups,” Lynn decided. “Sarah and I will go in first, pretending to be ordinary tourists, and scout things out. You two will provide cover outside. If anything seems amiss, retreat immediately.”

“No,” Logan said, “you’re injured. If we get into a fight—”

“It’s precisely because I’m injured that I look more like an ordinary traveler in need of help,” Lynn retorted. “And you and One-Eyed are too conspicuous. Believe me, Logan. I know what I’m doing.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Five minutes. If you're not out in five minutes, we're going in."

Lynn and Sarah exchanged a glance, then emerged from the woods and headed towards the gas station.

They tried to make their gait appear natural, like two weary travelers looking for a place to rest. Lynn's hand was discreetly on the pistol at his waist, but he didn't draw it.

As Lynn approached the gas station, he noticed more details. The convenience store door was open, but it seemed empty. The two parked cars were both empty, their windows closed. The gas station sign read "Sam's Gas Station - Open 24 Hours," but the pump display was black, as if the power was off.

“Something’s wrong,” Sarah whispered. “Why is the gas station without power?”

Lynn didn't answer. His gaze swept around, noticing a phone booth next to the convenience store—that was their target. If they could make a call to the Xavier's School, or FBI headquarters...
They walked to the convenience store, and Lynn pushed open the door, the bell ringing crisply.

“Is anyone there?” he shouted. “Our car has broken down and we need help—”

There was no response. The convenience store was a mess. Shelves were overturned, and goods were scattered all over the floor. There was no one behind the checkout counter, but Lynn noticed a pool of dark red liquid on the counter—blood.

“There was a battle here,” Sarah’s voice trembled, “we should leave—”

“Wait a minute,” Lynn said, his gaze falling on the floor behind the cashier.

There was a person there, curled up under the counter, motionless.

Lynn walked around the counter and crouched down to examine the body. It was a middle-aged man, wearing a gas station uniform, with a clear gunshot wound in his chest. He was dead; blood had congealed into a dark red puddle beneath him.

“They killed everyone here,” Lynn whispered. “This is a—”

He didn't finish his sentence because the back door of the convenience store was suddenly kicked open.

Three figures rushed in, fully armed, dressed in black tactical gear, and wearing masks. Their submachine guns were simultaneously pointed at Lynn and Sarah.

"Don't move!" the leader shouted. "Hands on your head!"

Lynn and Sarah raised their hands simultaneously. They were surrounded; any resistance would be suicidal.

“Where is Victor Lane?” the leader asked, his voice distorted by his mask. “We know you have him. Hand him over, and we might let you leave alive.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lynn said, trying to stall for time. “We’re just ordinary passengers—”

“Stop pretending, Agent Lynn,” the man said. “We know who you are. We tracked your plane crash all the way here. Your friends are in the woods outside, right?”

Lynn's heart sank. They had been discovered.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” the leader raised his gun and pointed it at Lynn’s head, “Where is Victor?”

Just then, the convenience store window suddenly shattered, and a beam of red energy shot in, hitting one of the armed men and sending him flying against the wall.

"Get down!" Lynn shouted, lunging at Sarah and pinning her to the ground.

Gunshots rang out, bullets whizzing overhead. The convenience store became a battlefield, with shelves, glass, and merchandise flying everywhere in the exchange of fire.

Lynn drew his pistol, leaned out from behind the counter, and fired. He hit one of the armed men in the leg, knocking him to the ground. But a third man had already rushed out the back door and disappeared from sight.

"There are more people outside!" the one-eyed man's voice came from outside the door, accompanied by the booming sound of energy beams emanating from his goggles.

Lynn pulled Sarah out of the convenience store and saw a chaotic scene.

In the gas station parking lot, Logan was engaged in close combat with two armed men, his adamantine claws gleaming dangerously. One-Eyed stood behind a car, suppressing enemies surging in from another direction with an energy beam. Storm leaned weakly against a tree, Rogue standing beside her, a metal pipe seemingly out of nowhere in his hand, warily scanning their surroundings.

Victor was thrown to the ground, still bound, but his eyes gleamed with a certain light amidst the chaos.

"We're surrounded!" Sarah shouted. "How many of them are there?"

Lynn quickly counted—at least ten armed men approaching from all directions. They had clearly laid an ambush here, waiting for their prey to walk right into their trap.

"Retreat!" the one-eyed man commanded. "Retreat towards the town!"

But just as they were about to move, a new figure appeared on the roof of the gas station.

It's Jason.

The super-powered mutant stood on the roof of the convenience store, looking down at the battle below. He still bore the scars from the previous fight, but they had completely healed. His eyes were cold and cruel, like those of an emotionless machine.

“You can’t escape,” Jason said, his voice still clearly audible amidst the chaos. “The professor said, either hand over Victor, or you’re all dead.”

“Professor?” Lynn keenly caught the address. “Which professor are you referring to?”

Jason didn't answer. He jumped off the roof, landing with a shallow crater in the concrete, and then charged toward Logan.

The two strongest fighters clashed, their adamant claws and steel fists producing a piercing metallic clang. Logan was overwhelmed by Jason's power, forced to retreat step by step, each block leaving his arms numb.

"Logan!" One-Eyed wanted to provide support, but more armed men surged in from the side, forcing him to turn and deal with them.

Lynn knew they couldn't hold out much longer. The enemy outnumbered them too much, and they also had powerful mutants like Jason. If they couldn't find a breakthrough soon...
His gaze swept across the battlefield and landed on the gas pump at the gas station.

A crazy idea took shape in his mind.

"Everyone, prepare to evacuate!" he shouted. "Storm, can't you create some wind?"

Although weakened, Storm understood Lynn's intentions. She raised her hands, her eyes turned white, and a strong gust of wind began to swirl around the gas station.

Lynn raised his pistol and aimed at the base of the oil pump.

“You’re insane!” Sarah screamed. “That would blow up the whole gas station!”

"So I'm ordering everyone to evacuate!" Lynn roared. "Get out of here!"

Logan was the first to react. He knocked Jason back with a powerful punch, then grabbed Victor from the ground and sprinted in the opposite direction. Cyclops covered Storm and Rogue's retreat, his energy beams leaving red trails behind them.

Sarah hesitated for a second, then started running too.

Lynn was the last to leave. He pulled the trigger repeatedly, firing three bullets at different points on the fuel pump. The first hit the fuel line, and gasoline began to gush out. The second hit the circuit box, sparks flying. The third—

The explosion occurred behind him.

A heatwave and a shockwave struck simultaneously, hurling Lynn into the air. He felt as if he had been grabbed by a giant hand and slammed away, his ears ringing with a deafening roar, and his vision filled with orange-red flames.

He fell heavily to the ground, rolling several times before stopping. His whole body was in excruciating pain, but he forced himself to open his eyes.

The gas station was engulfed in flames. The convenience store roof had collapsed, the fuel pumps were reduced to a jumbled pile of metal debris, flames soared into the sky, and thick smoke billowed. The armed men—most of them caught in the blast—lay on the ground groaning in pain, or lay motionless. (End of Chapter)