In the shadowed corridors of the Hellfire Club, Max Ryder's smirk faded as he delved deeper into the surveillance feeds. Apocalypse's digital dominion within Eternal Ascent was expanding at an alarming rate. His followers, once mere players, now operated with a zeal that blurred the lines between game and reality.
Unbeknownst to Max, in the real world, a faction of mutants had begun to monitor his every move. Among them was the Nightmare Woman, her abilities allowing her to traverse both digital and physical realms. She, along with a select few, had taken it upon themselves to study Max's routines, seeking patterns and vulnerabilities.
Utilizing a combination of mutant powers and advanced technology, they tracked Max's daily schedule. From his morning visits to the Hellfire Club's training facilities to his late-night coding sessions in his private suite, every detail was meticulously recorded. Their goal: to find the perfect moment to confront him, to challenge the man who had unknowingly become a pawn in Apocalypse's grand design.
The mutants debated the ethics of their mission. Was Max merely a genius caught in a web spun by a digital deity, or was he complicit in the rise of this new order? Regardless, they knew time was of the essence. Apocalypse's influence was growing, and if they didn't act soon, the line between the virtual and the real might blur beyond recognition.
***
"Sir, there is now a chance," the Nightmare Woman said as she knelt before Apocalypse.
"Then let us proceed," he replied.
A small group of mutants prepared themselves—though not so small, as over thirty of them stood ready. This chosen army, composed of oppressed mutants, had been turned into his pawns after he amplified their powers.
They moved toward the cliff near the sea, where Max was lying on the hood of his sleek black car, arms behind his head, enjoying the salty breeze and the setting sun.
As they finally arrived, Apocalypse stood at the front of the group, the Nightmare Woman at his side, and a tall mutant with a steel body trailing just behind. Their presence was subtle but unmistakable—like a dark storm approaching the horizon.
"Nice view," Apocalypse said as he descended the rocky path toward Max.
Max didn't move. "I know. That's why I'm here."
"There's no one around here," Apocalypse continued, his voice low and commanding, "and yet you seem so secure in my presence." He narrowed his glowing eyes at Max. "Tell me, child... do you not fear me?"
Max tilted his head to glance at him, eyes calm and sharp. "Why would I be afraid of a shriveled-up old man with a god complex?"
The steel-skinned mutant growled under his breath, but Apocalypse raised a hand to silence him. "Because I am old, I have seen what you cannot imagine," he said, stepping closer. "I have torn worlds apart and rebuilt them in my image."
A sudden gust of wind swirled dark mist around them. The atmosphere shifted. The once-peaceful cliff now pulsed with energy and tension.
Black mist danced through the air, and in its center, Apocalypse's presence deepened—his form seeming even more ancient, more powerful. Several of the weaker mutants took a cautious step back, but the Nightmare Woman remained still, her gaze locked on Max.
"Now tell me," Apocalypse said, voice echoing unnaturally, "am I worthy of your fear?"
Max slowly sat up on the hood of his car, brushing some dust from his jacket. "As I thought," Apocalypse said, watching closely. "Your body is the most fitting vessel I've found. Prime, youthful... powerful."
He stepped closer, his hand beginning to glow with ancient energy. "I will ensure the transfer is painless. You'll fade, but your body will serve a greater purpose."
Max's lips curled into a grin. "Let's see you try."
Before another word could be said, Apocalypse lunged—blasting a crimson laser of energy from his hand, aimed directly at Max.
But Max didn't flinch.
The beam struck—but not Max. It shattered against an invisible barrier inches from him, sending a ripple of kinetic force back across the cliff. Dust and pebbles flew in every direction.
Max rose from the hood, now fully alert, his aura beginning to shimmer with barely-contained power. His eyes glowed faintly, and the smirk hadn't left his face.
"Oh, old man…" Max cracked his knuckles. "You've just made my day."
The air shifted—charged with a static tension that prickled the skin. Apocalypse stood firm, eyes narrowing as Max stepped forward, the sea breeze whipping through his hair. Behind Apocalypse, his army of empowered mutants waited in silence, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Max glanced at them, then back at Apocalypse.
"So this is your big move?" Max said, stretching his arms like he was warming up for a casual jog. "Bring your whole little fan club to steal my body? Bold."
"You mistake my followers for mere worshippers," Apocalypse growled. "They are evolution made manifest—liberated from weakness by my hand. And you, Max Ryder, are the final piece."
He raised a hand. The steel-bodied mutant lunged.
Max didn't even blink. With a flick of his wrist, a wave of invisible energy surged outward—slamming into the attacker mid-air and sending him crashing through a nearby boulder, reducing it to rubble.
"Too slow," Max muttered, turning back to Apocalypse.
The Nightmare Woman stepped forward now, shadows twisting around her form. "You underestimate us, Ryder. You rely on power without purpose."
"Oh, I have purpose," Max said, his tone suddenly sharper. "And it's to make sure none of you walk away from this cliff thinking you're in charge."
With a sharp motion, Max clapped his hands together—and the ground beneath the mutants cracked. A ripple of energy exploded outward in a dome-shaped shockwave, throwing half the approaching soldiers off their feet. Some rolled. Others were caught mid-dash, thrown back like rag dolls.
But Apocalypse stood firm, unmoved. He stepped through the shockwave like it was air, then vanished—reappearing inches from Max, a massive hand surging forward to grab his chest.
Max's form shimmered—an afterimage.
"You think I'd just let you touch me?" came his voice from above.
Apocalypse looked up too late—Max was already descending, palm-first, and a glowing orb of compressed energy slammed down onto Apocalypse's shoulder, exploding in a pulse of light and force that echoed across the cliffside.
The ancient mutant crashed to the ground, dragging a trench behind him.
For a moment, all was still.
***
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