Motel, Logan Universe
In the lounge of a rundown motel, Alex lounged on a couch, one leg crossed over the other, his posture as casual as ever. Across from him, the screen of the dataslate embedded in the wall was broadcasting post-battle reports about the Manhattan Incident.
Just as Alex had predicted, after clashing with a few mutants who hadn't evacuated in time, the towering Wild Sentinel came to a halt due to energy depletion. It shut down abruptly mid-stride, lost balance, and collapsed—its fall leveling an entire building.
Although it was now confirmed that the colossus wouldn't be rising again anytime soon, no one dared to get close to the mechanical behemoth.
The National Guard had established fortified encampments nearby. Regiments and investigation units from across the sector were still arriving, assessing casualties and retrieving the dead. The exact death toll remained unknown, but one thing was clear: nearly every European planetary leader who attended the summit had perished.
Under the brutal assault of the Wild Sentinel, even mutant psykers struggled to survive—let alone baseline humans.
[Tragic]
Miss Minutes muttered quietly, her eyes fixed on the screen.
"Tragic?" Alex scoffed, his lips curling in disdain. "Sounds like karma to me. Don't you think so?"
Miss Minutes turned to him, her golden eyes curious.
[What do you mean?]
Alex leaned forward, his gaze distant. "Didn't Logan already explain? The summit's main agenda was the mutant migration issue. In this world, mutants are already on the verge of extinction—an endangered species. And yet some still survive."
He narrowed his eyes. "And I can't help but wonder, Madam, what exactly goes through these people's minds? They want mutants wiped out, but won't let them cross the border. They fear and loathe mutants—just because they look different or have gifts that set them apart from baseline humanity. They project guilt and sin onto them without cause. But instead of simply exiling them, what do they do?"
[They sealed the borders. No entry, no exit—for any mutant.]
"Exactly," Alex snapped. "They neither tolerate mutants nor allow them to leave and establish a realm of their own. Then they go further—manipulating agri-tech to produce food that suppresses mutant genes, rationing it to baseline humans. That's not governance. That's slow extermination."
He exhaled. "So yes, I say they got what was coming to them. You disagree?"
[These people only care about control. If you put it that way, then yes... they deserved it.]
Miss Minutes returned her gaze to the screen. Her expression this time was calm—tinged with mockery.
"Hah. With things blowing up this big, I doubt they'll be able to cover it up now. The entire World's attention is centered here. I'm curious how they plan to contain this mess," Alex said, folding his arms.
Miss Minutes offered a faint smile.
[I don't know how they'll clean up the mess... but I do know this: the whole galaxy is watching now. Even you, Lord Alex, are paying attention.]
Alex caught the undertone in her voice and chuckled. "You mean to say, if this were the old me, I would've already stepped in to fix this. Is that how you see me—a bleeding-heart hero?"
[To me, my lord, you're a good man.]
Miss Minutes raised her hands innocently.
Alex smirked at that, but his smile faded quickly. His tone turned low and contemplative.
"Maybe... this was all just another test from the Watchers. At first, they tried baiting me by bringing in champions from divergent timelines. But once I cast them into the Wasteland, the Watchers must have realized it was pointless. If they couldn't grab my attention... then those champions held no meaning."
[So now they've sent beings of chaos—anarchic, uncontrollable—so that you can't banish them to the Wasteland.]
"Yes..." Alex's brow furrowed as he thought of the Wasteland's current state.
"The diplomatic convergence between the Wasteland universe and Flashpoint-1 is still ongoing. Once their temporal streams sync, it'll start affecting me directly. Through my bond with the TImepad, our timelines might permanently entangle."
Miss Minutes blinked slowly. She said nothing—nor did she need to. She knew Alex was right. As the Lord of Time, no matter what universe he walked in, the Wasteland was forever bound to him.
And that meant, at this very moment, Alex had no time to return to the Wasteland.
"Batman has gone to the Flashpoint-1 universe, taking the Robins with him. Franklin's condition remains unstable. The Observers are struggling to manage the arcane flux returning to the world, and Earth's defenders are already stretched far too thin. If we were to cast these uncontrollable off-worlders into the Wasteland right now, we'd be throwing fuel onto a raging fire."
Alex gnawed thoughtfully at his thumbnail, eyes narrowing.
"Deploying artillery to strike a horse… They're forcing my hand."
[Then, Lord, what is your will?]
At her question, Alex's lip curled into a faint, mirthless smile.
"I've said it before. If I want to win this game, I cannot be one of the players—at least not yet. The fact that They chose this move only confirms one thing: they understand the Wasteland far too well… perhaps too well."
[But I remember, you once said that even the Watchers' vision is restricted by the universe's barriers. By that logic, shouldn't they be blind to events in the Flashpoint-1 universe?]
Miss Minutes furrowed her brows in thought, voicing her concern aloud.
"That's true in theory," Alex nodded. "But you never know what schemes lie in the shadows. Don't forget, there are still many powers in this realm we've yet to confront—entities whose strength we haven't even begun to gauge."
Just then, a faint cough interrupted their conversation.
Though quiet, the cough was crystal clear to Alex's ears.
Exchanging a glance with Miss Minutes, he slowly rose and made his way toward the adjoining chamber.
Logan had given Charles a mild sedative on the road—both to help him rest and to keep his mind from fraying further. The moment they arrived at the motel, Charles had fallen straight into sleep. But judging from the sound just now, it seemed the sedative's effects were already wearing off.
Pushing the door open without a word, Alex entered the room and saw the aged figure of the real Professor X, lying on the bed.
It was his first proper glimpse of Charles Xavier—his first time seeing the man alive, and more or less… sane.
He had traversed many realms, but the image of President X from the Ruinous Universe left the deepest mark. Yet that version of Charles had possessed the Scarlet Witch's body, and Alex had never truly seen him face to face.
"Come in, child."
Charles had sensed his presence. What puzzled Alex, however, was the professor's utter lack of surprise. He showed no shock at the presence of a stranger—no suspicion, no fear. Just a gentle smile that beckoned him closer.
At that moment, Charles resembled a saintly Imperial confessor—one who offered warmth to any soul that crossed his path.
"Mr. Charles, it's time for your medication," Alex said, stepping in with a glass of water and a pill Logan had left for him to administer.
"Ah yes, I almost forgot," Charles replied kindly and tried to sit up.
"Easy now." Alex rushed forward and gently helped prop him up against the pillows, placing the pill into his hand with care.
Charles swallowed it with a sip of water, then even opened his mouth slightly to show he had truly taken it—just like a cooperative old veteran trying to reassure a worried orderly.
"Aren't you curious who I am?" Alex asked offhandedly.
After all, this was technically the first time the two had met. Even though Alex was aware that Charles had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, he still found it strange how kindly the old man was treating him.
"You're a man full of secrets," Charles said with a gentle smile, his gaze fixed on Alex. The words made Alex's expression falter slightly. As he was considering the remark, Charles added, "Very few people can keep me from entering their minds."
Alex blinked in sudden realization. "You can still use telepathy freely?"
"Of course."
Charles answered without hesitation—but Alex remained unconvinced. He hadn't sensed the slightest mental intrusion. Perhaps Charles truly was hallucinating.
At this point, Alex felt no particular urge to continue the conversation.
"You should rest. I'll be right outside. Just call if you need anything."
But just as Alex turned to leave, Charles's expression changed. He didn't try to stop him, but instead spoke in a deeper, firmer tone.
"I know what you're afraid of, child. You fear the unknown—the things beyond your comprehension. The truths that contradict what you know but that you've chosen to ignore. You fear that something… or someone… has already set their sights on you. And you have no idea how to stop it."
The moment the words landed, Alex's hand froze on the door handle, suspended in midair. His whole body paused at the threshold of the room.
Turning slightly, he saw that Charles's face was still as kind and serene as before.
But Alex's gaze had become much more severe.
"You saw that… in my mind?"
.....
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