Marvel: The Awakened One

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Before Hawk went to the mutant underground, he tried to picture what it would be like.

Maybe it was hidden in the sewers, for example.

New York’s sewer system was a huge maze, and homeless people often stayed there in the winter. In the end, it was better to deal with the smell than to freeze.

It turned out the mutant underground really was hidden beneath the city...

There was only one way in. They started in the basement of an old, five-story brick apartment building with peeling paint. Then they walked through a concrete tunnel for about fifty meters to reach the hideout.

This part of the sewer had been abandoned for a long time. There was no damp slime like in working drains, but the air still smelled awful. Still, it gave the mutants what they needed most.

Shelter.

Hawk glanced around as they walked further in.

Epsilon-level mutants filled the space. Most wore old clothes, and almost all looked tired.

But they were alive.

”Mutants help mutants,” the underground manager said as he led them on. ”The living conditions aren’t great, but down here, they survive. Out there? If someone sees them, Sentinel Services shows up. In half an hour, they’re gone. Forever.”

Wanda used Chaos Magic to fake a mutant signature and get them through the entrance. The guards didn’t have X-Gene scanners—so they couldn’t tell by looking.

As Wanda looked at the severely deformed mutants nearby, she noticed the manager’s important phrase.

”Sentinel Services? Didn’t the government shut them down ten years ago after Magneto attacked Washington?”

The manager sneered. ”That’s what the people in charge in Washington tell the press. The persecution didn’t stop. It just went underground.”

Resentment made his voice tight. If his powers had been stronger, he might have marched to Washington with just a kitchen knife.

Hawk saw the anger on the manager’s face but stayed quiet.

A few minutes later, they came to a sunken concrete platform. At the back was a rusted iron door. The manager opened it, showing a huge fallout shelter about the size of two football fields.

The space beyond was brightly lit. Mutants walked through it in small groups. Some had obvious physical mutations, while others looked completely human.

This was the New York mutant underground.

”We usually open at ten at night and close by four in the morning,” the manager said. ”During those hours, any mutant can come here for help.”

He took them to a small office near the edge of the shelter, gave them seats, and quickly explained how things worked. Then he shrugged.

”Like we always say, mutants help mutants. So, what do you need?”

Wanda stayed silent and looked at Hawk.

Hawk got right to the point. ”Soren told me you have the address for the Xavier Institute.”

Soren was the bank robber with the Beatles-style haircut.

Hawk knew the Xavier Institute was somewhere in upstate New York, but that area was huge. People in Manhattan treated anything north of the Bronx as unexplored territory. Searching without a clue would take too long, so it was better to follow Soren’s lead.

The manager blinked. ”You’re looking for the X-Mansion?”

”Yeah.”

The manager gave an apologetic smile. ”I don’t know the address. And even if I did, I wouldn’t suggest going.”

Hawk arched an eyebrow.

Wanda leaned in. ”Why not?”

”Because nobody knows where it is.”

The manager realized they weren’t locals. He lowered his voice and spoke with a more serious tone.

”You don’t find the X-Mansion. They find you. Any address floating around out there is fake. They’re traps set by Sentinel Services to bait us out.”

Hawk thought about that.

”So it’s invite-only?”

”Who knows?” The manager let out a dry laugh. ”If every mutant knew how to get there, I wouldn’t need to run this place.”

He had a point.

Everyone knew Magneto led the mutant hardliners, but after Washington, he had vanished. The same applied to Professor Charles Xavier. His school was famous, supposedly a sanctuary for all mutants.

Still, rumors weren’t the same as facts.

The manager poured two glasses of whiskey and slid them across the desk.

”I’ve never met a single mutant who actually went to the school. Or maybe some did, and I just never saw them again.”

Hawk took a sip.

The manager’s words made him remember the X-Men movies he’d watched, and then he thought about the mutants gathered in the sewer outside.

Thinking back, he realized he’d never seen Epsilon-level mutants in the halls of the Xavier Institute in any movie. He hadn’t seen any severely deformed or weak mutants living there either.

If the X-Mansion was supposed to be a safe place for all mutants, then who was it really protecting?

Hawk did not have a grudge against Professor X.

He just didn’t care.

In the end, this wasn’t his problem. He just needed to find the school, find Jean, and see if she was his daughter. That was it.

He tapped his glass against the manager’s.

”So if I want to find them, what’s the play?”

The manager took a sip and studied him.

”Mr. Phoenix, you seem desperate to find this place. Do you mind telling me why? If it’s personal, I understand.”

”We think our daughter is there.”

The manager froze. He looked at Hawk, then at Wanda. Neither smiled. They were both completely serious.

He took a deep breath and gave them a helpless smile. ”I’m sorry. I really don’t know.”

Hawk didn’t let the answer get to him.

There was always another way. If he had to, he’d steal a car and drive Wanda all over upstate New York until they found the place. It couldn’t be that big.

Hawk finished his whiskey, stood up, and held out his hand.

”Thanks for your time.”

The manager shook it. ”Sorry I couldn’t help more.”

Wanda shook his hand too and thanked him.

They turned to leave.

The manager opened the office door.

A heavy thud echoed in the cavern.

Then came chaos.

Gunfire.

Screams.

Someone yanked open the rusted iron door, and chaos from the tunnels burst into the shelter.

”Sentinel Services!”

”On your knees!”

”Down!”

”Shoot! Shoot!”

Pop! Pop! Pop!

”Shit!”

Hawk and Wanda locked eyes.

The manager went pale. ”Sentinel Services.”

A dozen mutant guards rushed toward the office. Some had obvious Epsilon mutations, and all of them held cheap rifles or handguns.

”Sentinel Services!” one of them shouted. ”They turned on the X-Gene suppressors! Boss, take the emergency exit! We’ll hold them!”

”No good!”

Three more guards sprinted in from the other side of the cavern, their faces smeared with blood.

”They blocked the emergency exit! Jack and Alan are dead! They’re coming this way!”

The manager clenched his jaw.

He took a rifle from his guard captain and pushed it into Hawk’s hands. Then he gave another bitter smile.

”I’m sorry, Mr. Phoenix. Nobody is leaving today.”

His face grew hard.

”I don’t know how much you know about Sentinel Services, but trust me. You do not want them taking you alive. My advice? If we lose, eat a bullet. It’s better than what they’ll do to you.”

He did not wait for Hawk to answer.

The manager turned toward his men and roared, ”Make them bleed for it! Take as many of them with you as you can!”

The dozen guards around him roared back.

There was no fear in their eyes.

The manager led the charge, sprinting straight toward the breached corridor.

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