Everything was chaos. There were dead people walking around, tearing open old scars, and no one knew how to react. The X-Men were doing everything they could just to keep the city from falling apart, and that meant calling in reserve members. It meant calling in Kaz.Â
And when they gave him something to do, they didnât make it something easy.
It wasnât like he minded; Kaz loved the X-Men, would have done anything for any one of them, and he appreciated knowing that Charles trusted him enough to give him big tasks. But, fuck, if it wasnât stressful.
Find Lazarus, they said, at any cost. The possibility that the villain was masquerading as one of the not-so-deceased was high, and that made Kaz â Polygraph â the man for the job. Heâd already spoken to one or two of the dead, and so far, heâd had no luck. There was a general consensus of confusion and fear and despair, but no malice. Nothing that a villain might be feeling while relishing in the chaos theyâd created.
He was hit with a strong sense of panic, then, and his eyes caught a woman moving through the crowd. He recognized her. Lucille Brass. CEO of AIM, inhabitor of Kazâs body for a day once, and, if Sam Ashworth was to be trusted, the mastermind behind the flu that had nearly killed him. He felt a scowl tugging at his face, and he wasnât sure if it was his own emotions towards Brass or a mixture of everyone around him stuck in the panic of living again. He didnât figure it mattered.
If he wanted to find one villain, he figured he might as well start with another.
He made his way towards her, pushing down the battling emotions as best he could. Heâd just caught her when someone else appeared, blocking their path.
On the outside, the man seemed almost friendly. Sincere. There was no reason to take his offer of assistance as anything but.Â
Underneath, though, there was a swirl of bad intentions, informing Kaz that while the man might not want to harm him, he wouldnât hesitate. Kaz felt himself tense immediately. âNo,â he said, squaring his shoulders and doing his best to make himself look more intimidating, âWeâre fine.â
It was times like this that Kaz wished he was like Logan, or Rogue, or even Kitty. Their powers were physical, made for helping them out in situations like this. Kazâs was the opposite. They told him when he was in danger, but offered no help in warding it off. Luckily, Kaz had learned that part for himself. Years of fistfights and bruised knuckles did him a rare favor there.
Lucille needed to buy an island.
They werenât that expensive, considering her salary. She could comfortably afford one, leave, and have a money manager in the States who worked her portfolio for her. She could leave, and forget that she ever tried to dip her feet in this, ever tried to be Someone.
Her bodyguards werenât shit against ghosts.
At first, the ghosts hadnât much bothered Lucille. They had freaked her out, certainly, definitely unnerved her, but sheâd dismissed them. They didnât seem to have any powers, after all, just empty incorporeal reflections of who they used to be, so what harm could they do?
A lot of harm, it turned out.
The ghosts had started appearing in such frequency that theyâd crowded out her office, and when sheâd left it, they followed her. Her security team was still trying to figure out a new place for her to be, but in the meantime, Lucille was outdoors, so that the ghosts concentration around her didnât completely block their line of sight to her.
It had worked to a degree. The ghosts had spread out now, but it left her open to physical people. The two men approached her, and Lucille clenched her fists, internally on edge.
âLeave,â she said, her voice low and much firmer than she would have previously thought. âBoth of you. This is not a time to be surrounding me. â
It was interesting to see the ghosts keep their eyes locked on the woman; it was just as interesting to see the hardened, suspicious look come into the manâs eyes, as if he could glimpse past Grantâs smile. Of course, if he was one of the X-Men, he might have been able to, for all that Grant knew. ( To say the thought made him more on edge was an understatement. ) He continued blocking the sidewalk, even at the manâs insistence that they were fine.
The woman practically sparked to life, fists clenched and gaze hard. Grant placed his hands on his hips, closer to the weapons he kept. He did not want to do this the hard way, but it seemed neither of them were willing to let go of their own missions. âAnd whyâs that? You seem to be awfully popular today.âÂ
The whole situation was bizarre, and the smile dropped from Grantâs face. Professional -- his heart did not race, his mind did not wonder. Focused. âIâm not really surrounding you here. In fact, Iâd rather not fight at all. Just trying to hold a conversation, maâam.â He wished Lazarus had given him his goddamn number or something, so that he could text a âhey, totally evaded capture lol!â message. Instead, Grant was left with doing the dirty work again, and it made him feel that spark of anger stir in his stomach. â -- but with an attitude like that, Iâm guessing you arenât an X-Men?âÂ
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