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

"What's your relationship with the X-Men like?" Sarah suddenly asked.

Lynn glanced at her. "Why do you ask that?"

"Morrison said they might show up on site. If they do come, I'd like to know how you plan to handle it."

“I’ve worked with them before,” Lynn said. “They’re good people, good mutants. If they’re on the scene, I’ll try to mediate and avoid conflict.”

“‘Good mutants,’ Sarah repeated the word, a hint of amusement in her voice, ‘do you really think so?’”

“I think mutants are like ordinary people, there are good and bad,” Lynn said. “The X-Men represent the segment of mutants who are willing to coexist peacefully with humans. They are not the enemy, at least not yet.”

"What about the Brotherhood?"

“That’s another matter,” Lynn’s tone turned serious. “The Brotherhood believes that mutants should rule humanity, and they’re willing to use any means necessary to achieve that goal. They are the real threat.”

Sarah was silent for a moment, seemingly processing his words.

“I don’t have much experience dealing with mutants,” she finally said. “This mission… that time I was shot was my first close encounter with this world. To be honest, something about it makes me uneasy.”

"What?"

“The difference in power,” Sarah said. “In that battle, I saw Logan get shot and the wound heal in seconds. I saw Cyclops shoot lasers from his eyes and destroy three cars in an instant. And Storm, when she summoned the storm, it was like she was controlling nature itself. Compared to that kind of power, what are we ordinary people?”

Lynn understood her feelings. He had similar thoughts when he first faced the powers of mutants.

“We are human,” he said. “That’s what makes us who we are. Mutants have their abilities, but we have our intelligence, determination, and courage. In the past few days, the bravest acts I’ve seen haven’t come from mutants, but from ordinary FBI agents—like Michael, like you.”

Sarah's lips curled into a slight smile. "You're really good with words, Lynn."

"Just telling the truth."

They drove across the bridge and entered New Jersey. The road widened, flanked by suburban industrial areas and warehouses. In the distance, red lights could be seen in the sky—the chemical plant fire, still burning.

“We’re almost there,” Sarah said. “Are you ready?”

Lynn checked his gun and identification to make sure everything was in place.

“Ready.”

The scene at the Greenwood chemical plant was chaotic.

Fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars crowded the roads outside the factory. Red and blue flashing lights illuminated the surrounding night sky. Firefighters dragged huge hoses, spraying water at the still-burning factory buildings. The air was thick with the acrid smell of chemicals and burning, making one want to cough.

Lynn and Sarah parked their car outside the police line, showed their identification, and were let in.

A middle-aged man in a fire commander's uniform walked towards them, his face covered in soot, looking tired and anxious.

“FBI?” he asked. “I’m Mike Sanders, the chief of the Greenwood Fire Department. You’ve come at the right time; this place is a complete mess.”

“Lyon Ashford, this is my partner, Sarah Connors,” Lynn shook his hand, “How’s the situation on the ground?”

“Not good,” Sanders shook his head. “The fire is much bigger than we expected. Once those chemicals catch fire, they’re very difficult to extinguish. We’ve called in firefighters from three surrounding counties, but it won’t be fully under control until noon tomorrow at the earliest.”

"What about the number of dead and injured?"

"Seventeen people have been confirmed dead, mostly night shift workers. More than thirty are injured, several in critical condition. And..." Sanders hesitated, "...several people are still missing. We found some debris under the rubble, but we can't identify them."

Lynn's gaze swept over the burning factory. Flames spewed from shattered windows and collapsed roofs, illuminating half the sky. Occasionally, the sound of metal breaking and the muffled boom of a small explosion could be heard.

"How did the explosion happen?" he asked.

“According to witnesses, the first explosion occurred in the main storage area,” Sanders pointed to the northeast corner of the plant, now just a charred ruin. “That area stored large quantities of chemical materials. After the explosion, the fire quickly spread throughout the entire plant. Within minutes, the entire factory was engulfed in flames.”

Has anyone seen anyone suspicious?

“Yes,” Sanders said. “One surviving worker said that about ten minutes before the explosion, he saw several strangers enter the main storage area. He assumed they were management and didn’t ask any questions. Now that I think about it…”

“Those people might be the ones who caused the explosion,” Sarah said.

“Very likely,” Sanders nodded. “We’ve already had that worker stay behind for your questioning. He’s in the command vehicle over there.”

“Thank you,” Lynn said. “Let’s go talk to him first. Also, Chief, does this factory have any special areas? Like a basement or some secret facilities?”

Sanders paused, his expression turning somewhat strange. "How did you know?"

“It’s just speculation,” Lynn said. “So it really is?”

“Yes,” Sanders said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “Beneath the main storage area, there’s an underground facility. Our men discovered the entrance while they were putting out the fire. There… there are a lot of strange devices, and some things I’ve never seen before.”

"what?"

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Sanders said. “It looks like some kind of laboratory. There’s a lot of chemical equipment, pipes, storage tanks. And…” His voice lowered, “There are also… photos. Photos of mutants.”

Lynn and Sarah exchanged a glance.

“Take us to see,” Lynn said.

They followed Sanders through the chaotic scene, bypassing firefighters and police, to the ruins of the main storage area. The fire was largely under control, but the ground was still scorching hot, and the air was unbearably hot.

Behind a pile of collapsed metal frames, there was a blown-open concrete floor. Beneath the floor, a staircase leading downwards into a dark underground space was exposed.

“This is it,” Sanders said. “Our men only went in a short distance because they were worried about structural instability. But they said the space below is huge, at least several hundred square meters.” Lynn looked at the staircase, a complex feeling welling up inside him. If Morrison’s intelligence was correct, that underground facility was where mutant suppressants were produced. Now that it’s been destroyed, the evidence inside may have been completely destroyed.

“We need to go down and take a look,” he said.

“It’s too dangerous,” Sanders shook his head. “The structure could collapse at any moment. And there might be chemical residue below; breathing it could be toxic.”

“We have gas masks,” Lynn said. “As for the structure… we’ll be careful. This is part of a federal investigation, Director. We need to know what’s down there.”

Sanders hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Okay. But if anything goes wrong, I'm not responsible."

He found them gas masks and flashlights, along with several firefighters as backup. Lynn and Sarah put on the masks, turned on the flashlights, and carefully descended the stairs.

The staircase was longer than they had imagined, extending downwards for about twenty meters. The walls were smooth concrete, and there was an emergency light every few meters, but they were all off now. Only the beams of their flashlights cut a bright path through the darkness.

“This place is very professionally built,” Sarah said in a low voice, her voice muffled behind her gas mask. “It doesn’t look like a temporary structure.”

“It took at least a few years,” Lynn agreed, “and a lot of money.”

They walked to the bottom of the stairs and entered a spacious underground hall.

The beam of the flashlight swept across the surroundings, illuminating the collapsed equipment, shattered glass containers, and debris scattered everywhere. This area had clearly also been affected by the explosion, though not as severely as the ground, much of the equipment had been destroyed.

There was a strange smell in the air, faintly detectable even through his gas mask. Lynn couldn't be sure what it was, but it made him uneasy.

“Look over there,” Sarah pointed to a corner of the hall.

Lynn turned her head and saw what she was pointing to.

It was a wall covered with photos and documents. Most of the photos had been burned or torn, but some remnants were still legible. Lynn walked over and examined them closely.

The photos showed various mutants. Some were front-facing shots, like ID photos; others were candid shots, like surveillance photos. Next to each photo was a form recording data such as height, weight, ability type, and "threat level."
“These are files on mutants,” Sarah said, a hint of fear in her voice. “They’re tracking mutants.”

Lynn's gaze fell on a fairly intact photograph. He recognized the person in the photo—a young man with blue skin and a pointed tail.

Nightcrawler. Kurt Wagner.

“They’re tracking the X-Men,” Lynn whispered.

He continued examining the other photos, rummaging through the wreckage. Most were unrecognizable, but he found a few that were still legible. One of them made his heart race—

That's a picture of the little rascal.

The photo was taken secretly, seemingly on the street. The little rascal, dressed casually, was walking down the sidewalk with her head down, her face bearing that familiar expression of loneliness. A date was written in the corner of the photo—it was from several months ago, before she was being tracked by Victor.

“Lynn?” Sarah noticed his unusual behavior. “What did you find out?”

Lynn put the photo in his pocket. He didn't have time to explain, but he knew he needed to tell Professor X.

“We need to take everything from here,” he said. “Take as much as we can. This is crucial evidence.”

They spent nearly an hour collecting evidence in the underground facility. Most of the documents and equipment had been destroyed, but they still found some valuable items—a few incomplete reports, some storage devices, and several chemical sample containers that were not completely destroyed.

When they finally returned to the ground, the sky was already turning a pale white.

The light of dawn pierced through the billowing smoke, casting an orange-red hue over the entire scene. The fire was completely under control, but firefighters remained on site to monitor the situation and prevent reignition.

Lynn removed his gas mask and took a deep breath of fresh air. Even though the air still smelled of chemicals, it was much better than the oppressive atmosphere underground.

“I need to use the phone,” he told Sarah. “Go and talk to that witness and see if you can get any more information.”

“Okay,” Sarah nodded. “Who do you want to contact?”

"Someone who might be able to help."

Lynn walked to a relatively quiet corner at the edge of the scene and took out his phone. He hesitated for a moment, then dialed a number.

The phone was answered after ringing three times.

“Detective Ashford,” Professor X’s voice came through the receiver, gentle yet tinged with surprise, “is there something urgent that you’re calling so early?”

“Professor,” Lynn said, “I need to tell you something. About a chemical plant, and... about Little Rascal.”

He briefly described everything that happened that night—the chemical plant explosion, the underground facilities, the production of mutant inhibitors, and the photos he found in the ruins.

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"You mean there are photos of X-Men members there?" the professor finally asked, his voice turning serious.

"Yes, Kurt's, and Anna's. There might be others, but most were destroyed and I can't identify them."

“This is a serious situation,” the professor said. “If someone is systematically tracking mutants and producing weapons to target us, this isn’t an isolated incident; it’s part of a larger plan.”

“I think so too,” Lynn said. “Professor, this factory belongs to Richard Malcolm. He has connections with Erin Shaw, and I have reason to believe Shaw might be a member of the fraternity.”

Professor Erin Shaw's voice became thoughtful. "I've heard of that name. She's well-known in the philanthropic world, but has always maintained a mysterious air. I'll investigate her background."

“There’s one more thing,” Lynn said. “This explosion was deliberate. Someone deliberately blew up the factory. The question is, who did it? Was it a mutant trying to stop inhibitor production, or the Brotherhood trying to destroy evidence?”

“Both possibilities exist,” the professor said, “but either way, it indicates someone is on the move. Lynn, I’ll send One-Eyed to investigate. He should arrive in New York later today.” (End of Chapter)