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

Jason was also within the blast radius, but he was crawling out of the rubble, his body ablaze, though his healing abilities allowed him to continue moving.

“Lynn!” Sarah’s voice came from somewhere. “Are you still alive?”

“Alive,” Lynn coughed as he sat up, his bones protesting, “we have to go—Jason isn’t dead yet—”

Sure enough, Jason had already stood up from the flames. His clothes were mostly burned off, and he had severe burns on his skin, but they were healing at a visible speed. His eyes were filled with pure rage.

“You all must die!” he roared as he charged toward Lynn.

But he only ran two steps before being hit by a red energy beam, which blasted him away, sending him crashing through a wall.

"Quick, let's go!" One-Eyed Dragon appeared beside Lynn and pulled him up. "He won't be down for long!"

They retreated into the town's streets, the gas station flames roaring behind them. Lynn glanced back and saw Jason crawling out of the rubble again, but this time he didn't chase after him—the shock of the explosion and the one-eyed man's attack had finally rendered him temporarily incapacitated.

“Over here!” Logan’s voice came from an alley.

They rushed into the alley, weaved through the gaps between several houses, and finally stopped in an abandoned barn at the other end of town.

Everyone was panting heavily, covered in injuries. Lynn leaned against the wall, feeling like he was about to fall apart. The impact of the explosion had aggravated his rib injuries, and every breath felt like someone was stabbing him in the chest with a knife.

“Report the situation,” the one-eyed man said, his voice weary but still maintaining the composure of a commander.

“I’m fine,” Logan said, though he had several burns that were healing quickly. “Victor is alive, he was slightly injured in the blast, but it’s not fatal.”

“Storm is still weak,” said Little Rascal, supporting the nearly unsteady Stormgirl. “She needs to rest.”

“Sarah?” Lynn asked.

“I’m still alive,” Sarah’s voice trembled, “but I don’t think I ever want to see a gas station again in my life.”

Despite the terrible situation, Lynn couldn't help but laugh, only to be immediately interrupted by the pain in her ribs.

“We can’t stay here too long,” One-Eyed Dragon said. “Those people will regroup and continue tracking us. And the explosion will attract the local fire department and police; we don’t want to get involved in that kind of trouble.”

“Where are we going?” Sarah asked.

“On the other side of town,” Logan said, “I saw a car repair shop; there might be a usable car. If we can find transportation, we can get out of this area quickly.”

"Stealing another car?" Sarah sighed.

“Borrowed,” Logan corrected, “we’ll return it later. Or compensate us.”

They rested for a few minutes and then set off again. This time, they were more careful, moving along the shadows of the buildings and avoiding any actions that might reveal their location.

The residents of Clayton seemed terrified by the explosion; most hid in their homes, peering out of their windows. Lynn could see several horrified faces, but no one came out to stop them or ask what had happened.

The auto repair shop is located at the far east end of town. It's a small family-run workshop with several cars waiting for repairs and an old pickup truck that looks drivable parked in the yard.

“That one,” Logan said, pointing to the pickup truck, “looks alright.”

He went over to check it, then used his claws to pry open the door lock. A few seconds later, the engine roared to life, and the pickup truck started.

“Get in,” Logan said. “I’ll drive.”

They threw Victor into the truck bed, and the others squeezed into the cab and the truck bed. Lynn sat in the passenger seat, clutching his pistol, which had almost an empty magazine.

The pickup truck drove out of the repair shop and headed away from town. In the rearview mirror, Lynn could see the gas station flames still burning, thick smoke shooting into the sky like a black pillar.

“Which direction is Xavier’s Academy in?” Sarah asked.

“Northeast,” the one-eyed man said, “about 800 kilometers. At normal speed, it might take ten to twelve hours.”

“Assuming no one comes after us anymore,” Sarah added.

“That’s a big assumption,” Logan said, “but at least now we have a car. That’s much better than walking.”

The pickup truck drove out of Clayton and onto the winding mountain road. The sun had completely set, the sky had turned deep blue, and the first star began to twinkle.

Lynn leaned back in his seat, too exhausted to stay awake. His body had been through too much—plane crash, trekking, ambush, explosion—every bone screamed for rest.

But he knew they couldn't rest yet. The organization wouldn't give up, Jason was still alive, and they had a dangerous prisoner to guard.

“We should take turns resting,” One-Eyed Dragon said, seemingly understanding everyone’s thoughts. “Logan will start, then I’ll switch in an hour. The rest of you should try to get some sleep and recharge.”

“And Victor?” the little rascal asked. “He’s in the truck bed. If he wakes up—”

“I looked at him,” the little rascal said, “because I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

No one objected. The little rascal climbed into the truck bed, sat next to Victor, and stared coldly at the unconscious mind manipulator with his different colored eyes.

Lynn wanted to say something, but he was just too tired. He closed his eyes, letting the bumps of the pickup truck and the roar of the engine become a strange lullaby.

Night fell over the winding mountain road, and the pickup truck's headlights drew two pale beams of light in the darkness.

When Lynn awoke from the jolting, he found himself asleep without realizing it. The scenery outside the window had completely changed—they had left the hilly region of the Appalachian Mountains and entered a relatively flat agricultural area. Endless cornfields stretched out on either side of the road, shimmering like silver waves in the moonlight.

"You're awake," came the one-eyed man's voice from the driver's seat. He was driving, while Logan had somehow moved to the back and was dozing against the window.

"What time is it?" Lynn rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up.

“It’s past three in the morning,” the one-eyed man said. “You’ve slept for about four hours.”

"What about the others?"

“Sarah’s asleep in the back. Storm’s feeling better, so he’s resting too. Little Rascal,” One-Eyed glanced in the rearview mirror, “she’s been watching Victor from the truck bed the whole time, without closing her eyes for a second.”

Lynn turned to look at the back of the truck. Little Rascal sat in the corner, knees drawn up to her chest, the night wind ruffling her hair. Her eyes gleamed strangely in the moonlight—her blue eye was especially striking, like a mark left by Victor. "Is she alright?"

“I’m not sure,” One-Eyed said frankly. “She’s absorbed too much. Victor’s abilities, memories, emotions… these things are mixing within her. Professor X needs to help her as soon as possible, or the consequences will be unpredictable.”

Lynn fell silent. He remembered what the little rascal had said by the fire—about the allure of power, about the fear of becoming a monster. If Victor's dark memories were beginning to affect her thinking…
“How far are we?” he asked.

“At this speed, we have about 600 kilometers left,” One-Eyed Dragon said. “We’ve already entered Tennessee. If all goes well, we should reach the New York State border by noon tomorrow.”

“If all goes well,” Lynn repeated, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

So far, nothing has gone smoothly.

They stopped once before dawn, refueling and using the restroom at a remote rest stop. The rest stop had only a vending machine and a row of dilapidated public toilets, but for them, it was a luxury.

Lynn took the opportunity to check his injuries. The pain in his ribs had turned into a persistent dull ache, somewhat better than yesterday, but still making each deep breath a torment. The scratches on his arms and legs had scabbed over and didn't appear to be infected. Overall, considering everything he had been through, he was in relatively good condition.

The little rascal jumped down from the truck bed, stretching her stiff limbs. Her face was pale, and she had deep dark circles under her eyes, clearly having not slept all night.

“You should take a rest,” Lynn said to her.

“I told you, I can’t sleep,” the little rascal’s voice was hoarse. “Every time I close my eyes, I see his memories. Those faces, those screams, that fear.”

“Those aren’t your memories,” Lynn said. “You’re not responsible for them.”

“But they’re in my head,” the little rascal said, “and it feels like I did it myself. I can feel his satisfaction when he’s controlling those people. That thrill of power. It makes me want to vomit, but at the same time…”

She didn't finish her sentence, but Lynn understood what she meant.

“That’s why you need Professor X’s help,” he said. “He has decades of experience dealing with trauma. He can help you disconnect from those memories and help you rediscover yourself.”

Little Rascal nodded, but her eyes remained vacant.

Victor woke up as they parked. He was strapped to the side panel of the truck bed, and the gag in his mouth had been replaced with stronger duct tape, but his eyes gleamed with a certain light in the darkness.

Lynn walked over and squatted down in front of him.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “Your limiter is still active, your abilities are being suppressed. Even if you could break free, there are five people here who could knock you unconscious.”

Victor made a muffled sound through the tape, as if trying to say something.

Lynn hesitated for a moment, then tore off the tape from his mouth.

"What do you want to say?"

Victor coughed a few times, moistening his chapped lips. "Give me some water."

"Answer my question, and perhaps I'll consider it."

Victor looked at Lynn, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. "Do you know what you're fighting, Agent? That organization won't give up. You killed their people, ruined their operation, and took me away. They'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth."

"Is this what you wanted to say? Threatening us?"

“No, this is a warning,” Victor said. “I know you won’t let me go, and I don’t expect you to. But at least let me tell you what you’re dealing with. That organization has resources, connections, mutants, and a lot more that you don’t know about. You think you’re safe once you’re at the Xavier’s School? They can even track you down there.”

“X Academy has its own defense system,” Lynn said.

"You think those defense systems haven't been studied?" Victor sneered. "The Brotherhood has existed for decades; they know more about Xavier's School than you think."

Lynn stared into his eyes, trying to tell whether he was telling the truth or playing mind games.

“If you want water, tell me something useful,” he said. “Like, who is that ‘professor’? Jason mentioned that title.”

Victor's expression changed, a fleeting fear appearing in his eyes. "I can't tell you."

"Can't or don't want to?"

“No,” Victor said. “Some information is locked deep in my memory, and I can’t say it even if I wanted to. It’s the Brotherhood’s protective—or rather, control—measure for its core members.”

"What about that little rascal? She absorbed your memories, can she see them?"

Victor paused for a moment, then said, “Maybe yes, maybe no. Those locked memories may exist in fragments in her mind, but she’ll need professional help to decipher them. Professor X might be able to—if he’s willing to take that risk.”

"What risks?"

“Those locked memories have protective mechanisms,” Victor said. “Anyone attempting to forcibly decipher them could suffer a mental backlash. This is another layer of protection from the Brotherhood.”

Lynn frowned. This meant that even if they brought Rogue to Xavier's School, extracting information about the Brotherhood from her mind wouldn't be an easy task.

“Your water,” he said, taking a bottle of water out of his backpack, unscrewing the cap, and bringing it to Victor’s lips.

Victor took a few greedy gulps, then leaned back against the side panel of the truck bed. "Thanks."

“Don’t thank me too soon,” Lynn said. “Once we get to Xavier’s School, you’ll be interrogated. Professor X will enter your mind and find out everything you’ve been hiding.”

“I know,” Victor said, surprisingly calmly, “but at least before that, I have a little time to think.”

Lynn didn't say anything more, taped his mouth shut again, and then went back to the car.

As dawn broke, they continued their journey. This time, Lynn volunteered to drive—he was feeling better than the day before, and One-Eyed had been driving for several hours straight and needed a rest.

"Are you sure?" the one-eyed man asked. "Your injury—"

“Driving doesn’t require using your ribs,” Lynn said. “Besides, I received advanced driving training with the FBI. If we’re being chased, I’m better suited to handle it than you are.”

One-Eyed Dragon considered it for a moment, then nodded in agreement. He and Logan switched to the back seat, letting Lynn get into the driver's seat. (End of Chapter)